#vampire bazaar | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

borathae · 6 months ago

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↳ Index [Day 20 - Findom]

Pairing: Soft Dom!Yoongi x switch f.Reader x switch!Jungkook

Genre: Vampire!Yoongi, Vampire!Jungkook, Magic!AU, Polyamory!AU, established relationship!AU

Kinks: findom in this story = Yoongi having a spending kink on them, neck kisses, clothed sex (nipple play, nipple sucking over shirt), handjob, dirt talk, sensory play with a necklace, temperature play with spit, but also! casual nudity & skinny tipping in private pool where they flirt and tease and are so hot, Kook is very Dom with her during those moments, as they prepare for Yoongi they play with each other’s nipples, maybe this isn’t even a findom story but a nipple story fbasdbf, they call him Daddy once cause he is into that, it's not a huge part of the story though, loving aftercare

Wordcount: 6.4k

a/n: listen. the vision of the person was handjob + sensory + temperature + nipples and somehow this came into my mind? like obviously doing it to kookie would have been the most logical thing to do with their dynamic but what if they decide that rich sugardaddy lovebug boongie deserves to be pampered for all his efforts? what then? then this smut happens and we can all scream together <3

That Yoongi was rich was just as much fact as the sun being warm was. That he uses these riches to treat you and Jungkook to absolute everything you desire was just as certain. You and Jungkook have to be careful how you talk in front of Yoongi because if you just so happen to mention in passing that you want something, rest assured that you will have it in your possession mere days later. So when he overheard you and Jungkook talking about a vacation somewhere warmer, mere weeks later you found yourselves in a plane to your private paradise. You weren’t even serious. You and Jungkook were in the back gardens of the estate, sharing the shadow of a willow tree as you enjoyed the mild autumn day. You talked about many things; from nature, art, the universe and your hobbies and as you talked, Jungkook dared to slip his dream of going somewhere warmer. You agreed, coincidentally timing it with Yoongi coming around the corner and hearing everything.

“Do you mean that?” he asked and sat down next to you.

“You are not going to plan anything now, are you?”

“Well, did you mean it?”

“Yoongi, stop it. You don’t gotta spend so much money on us.”

“That’s ridiculous. Give me a week.”

And you knew that no matter what you said, you wouldn’t be able to stop him.

Jungkook regrets asking for a vacation somewhere warmer. Yoongi kept his word, but at what cost? Jungkook is sweating his butt off and that means a lot because the only thing currently covering him, is a small piece of cloth on his crotch as he is lying in starfish position on the stone floor of the holiday mansion. Above his head, the ceiling fan is working without end, casting dancing shadows on the red paint. Jungkook swears that the air it moves around is hotter than the sun herself. The wind carries the sound of the outside into the room. The busy street, the trickling of the waterfall pool and the lively bazaar with its music. You and Yoongi went to said bazaar. Jungkook could have come as well, but didn’t want to leave because he was just way too hot. He is not regretting his decision of staying back. If he left, he most definitely would have melted into a puddle.

Just this moment, the front door opens and the conversation between you and Yoongi reaches Jungkook’s ears. He doesn’t move, eyes zoned out on the ceiling fan and mouth agape in exhausted pants. You will find him eventually, there is no need to make any unnecessary movements.

“I’m sweating my ass off, seriously”, you tell Yoongi as you walk to the living era of the mansion.

“We can take a swim, that’ll cool you off. Where the fuck’s the brat off to?” Yoongi says.

Jungkook knows that he is meant by the brat and that Yoongi says it with love and adoration.

“I don’t know. Maybe outside? Kookie, we’re home!”

“Come get your snacks, bub!”

“Oh?”

“Careful, almost walked into you. Why did you stop?”

“Found him.”

Jungkook lifts his head. You and Yoongi are standing just up the three stairs. Yoongi is carrying all of the shopping bags while you point at Jungkook.

“Urgh”, Jungkook groans, dropping his head again.

“Are you feeling alright?” you ask him in a chuckle.

“No, I’m dying.”

“Are you still hot?”

“Yeah.”

“Poor boy. I get you though. Did you take a swim already?”

“Yeah.”

“And that didn’t help?”

“No.”

“Well, that sucks”, you say and take the three stairs down. You pull the dress over your head and take off your bra. Yoongi follows you with his eyes. Jungkook doesn’t at first until you naturally pass him on your way outside and he gets a glimpse of your naked chest. He lifts his head, eyes now glued to you as you get entirely naked. You take the stairs into the pool, looking over your shoulder once your lower body is completely submerged.

“You guys can join me, you know?” you say playfully and submerge yourself into the water completely. You even go underwater, diving up again after a few seconds. You feel their eyes on you. It’s kind of exciting, you have to be honest. But you act oblivious, wiping the water out of your face in an angle that gives them glimpses of your chest in the sunlight.

Jungkook glances at Yoongi. Yoongi glances at Jungkook. They are thinking the same thing. Jungkook rolls to his stomach and gets on all fours before he jumps to his feet. You hear the naked pitter patter of his soles and in the next second, water explodes next to you as he jumps into the pool.

You laugh, shielding yourself as best as possible. Jungkook dives to you, coming up for air in a way which allows him to pick you up. You wrap your legs around his waist instantly, hands wiping the water from his face. Your upper body is out of the water like this, tits pressing against his huge pecs.

“I thought you were hot”, you say, soaking up the feeling of his naked skin greedily. The way he holds you allows you to feel his abs against your middle. You would be lying if you said that you weren’t affected by it.

“I am”, Jungkook answers you, fingers digging into your buttocks.

“And this is helping?”

He nods his head. You chuckle, scratching his undercut. He smiles lazily, eyes glued to your lips.

“Hold your breath”, he whispers.

You follow his orders. Jungkook takes a deep breath as well and goes underwater with you in his arms. He stays like this for three seconds then dives up again, gazing when you naturally wipe the water from your face and it makes your back arch. Shit, if he wasn’t such a gentleman, he would be sucking on those pretty nipples of yours by now. They are so wet, dripping water, and are just inches away from his lips. He moans inaudibly, parting his lips hungrily.

You look at him again, “what?”

“Just having thoughts”, he rasps.

“Thoughts?”

“Mhm, thoughts”, he purrs, eyes flitting to your tits.

You tingle, having to gulp. This look is enough to let you know every single filthy thought he was having.

“Water bomb!”

Water explodes next to you, hitting you and Jungkook without warning. You screech while Jungkook drops you in shock. You look at the side of impact. Yoongi dives up with a shit eating grin and his sunglasses completely tilted off his face.

“You didn’t expect that, did you?” He teases playfully, paddling to you even if the pool is only chest height for him. With his hair sticking to his face funnily, he looks like a wet cat trying to swim.

“No we didn’t, you doofus”, you say, fixing the glasses for him. Next you wipe his hair out of his face.

“I got you good”, he coos and hangs himself onto your back.

“You did, yeah.”

He nuzzles his face into your neck, leaving kisses on your heated skin.

“Mhm, that’s nice”, you sigh, rolling your head to the side.

“Mhm, and you’re soft”, he whispers, biting your shoulder gently.

You enjoy his touch with a tingling stomach. His body is just as hot as Jungkook’s. Judging from the fabric against your skin, he isn’t naked however. That explains why it took him a while to jump into the pool. He had to change into his swimming clothes.

Yoongi ends the little munching session with a kiss to your earlobe, wrapping his sculpted arm around your neck in a gentle headlock. You can feel his muscles tense like this, back pressed against his torso.

“You’re a temptress”, he speaks in a normal voice and because it is naturally so deep, you feel it vibrate in his chest.

“What did I do?”

“You know exactly what you’re doing.”

You smile, agreeing with a hum and a cock of your right brow. Yoongi growls, tilting your head to the side with his fingers around a bundle of your hair. Like this, your neck is on complete display to him and he claims it in a gentle bite. The kind which would never harm, but which still makes you arch your back in bliss. The bite ends as quickly as it began, the sensation however lingers on your neck even long after.

“Fucking temptress”, he rasps and breaks away from you so he could submerge himself in the cold water. You try to regulate yourself in the time he is underwater, gulping vividly.

“Hah.”

You glance at Jungkook.

“What?”

“It’s what you get”, he says and turns his back to you so he could swim to the other end of the pool.

“Wow, you two are awful.”

“You started it. Don’t think we aren’t aware that you were posing.”

“I wasn’t posing!” (You were).

“Mhm sure, that’s why you made sure that the silhouette of your boobs was on full display and the sunlight hit them just right.”

He reached the end of the pool, disappearing behind the waterfall. There was an era behind it where one can sit on a natural stone and overlook the pool. You swim to it.

“Fine, you got me. That still doesn’t give you guys the right to be like that.”

Jungkook laughs, throwing his head back as he spreads on the stone cockily. When he sits like this, with his legs spread and his muscular arms open, he looks so masculine and sexy. You just wanna fucking sit on him.

“Tell yourself that.”

“Tell yourself what?” Yoongi dives up next to you, keeping his distance so you wouldn’t kick each other as you swam.

“___ is complaining because we teased her.”

“Yeah, not happening. You lost the right to complain when you undressed like that”, Yoongi says.

“Wow, I’m surrounded by horndogs.”

Yoongi chuckles, “not horndogs. Ripper, we’ve got the tendency to have a short fuse”, he flirts, flickering his eyes red in sync with Jungkook showing off his fangs in a lopsided smirk and a little growl.

“Jesus”, you let out, diving under the water so they wouldn’t see the utter flusteredness they make you feel. You hear their laughter above water. It reaches your ears distorted.

Once you dive up again, Yoongi is sitting next to Jungkook, spread out just as masculine and sexy. They are ravishing you with their eyes, genuinely making you feel giddy.

“We left you a seat between us, princess”, Yoongi says.

“Join us, babygirl”, Jungkook adds, patting the stone where your back will rest.

“Shut up”, you mumble and claim the spot between them. You have one arm of Yoongi’s and one of Jungkook’s behind you. One thigh of each of them touches your legs. You squirm a little, heart racing in your chest.

“You’re so cute”, Jungkook chuckles deeply, relaxing back with his head falling against the stone.

“Mhm, the fucking cutest”, Yoongi agrees in an amused purr, mirroring his position with closed eyes.

Their pointer fingers rub your shoulders mindlessly, making you shiver.

“Whatever”, you mumble, trying your hardest to relax. It is really difficult at first, but gets easier when time passes and they limit their touches to the soft caresses of your shoulders. It is perfect and addicting to be together. You can flirt and tease each other, follow it up with moments of relaxation and both states will be as addicting as the other.

The flirting lasted the perfect amount of time, making the relaxation which follows all the more wonderful.

Like this, you cool off, sheltering from the bright sun. You stay in the water until your teeth begin to clatter. Yoongi and Jungkook could stay longer, because their temperature regulation works differently.

“I’m gonna go, I’m chilly”, you tell them.

“I’ll join you”, Yoongi says, pushing himself off the stone.

“Wait for me”, Jungkook joins as well.

He leaves the pool first, waiting by the stairs for you so he could hold your hand.

“Well, thank you”, you say.

“Anything for you”, he says, giving your hand a kiss when you are outside.

Yoongi places a towel over your shoulders.

“Oh? Wow, thanks”, you chuckle.

“Of course, princess”, he says softly, kissing your shoulder before he takes a step back and hands Jungkook his towel.

“No thanks, I need to take advantage of the water on my skin. It’s so cooling.”

“Alright, I’ll take it”, Yoongi says and wraps the towel around his torso instead.

Jungkook rests his weight on one foot, making his hip stick out naturally, and runs his hands through his hair.

“What did you get at the bazaar?” he asks.

“Many things. Lots of snacks for you.”

“Nice, snacks.”

“And jewellery and clothes for me.”

“Oh nice, can I see?”

“Yes of course.”

“She’s beautiful in all of them”, Yoongi says, walking back inside. You can still converse because only curtains separate you from the courtyard and the living room.

“I can imagine”, Jungkook agrees, following him inside.

“You guys are so sweet”, you say, right behind them.

“Did you get something too, hyungie?”

“Just ingredients for dinner.”

“That doesn’t count. Did you get a treat too?”

“The only treat I need is to spoil you two. Excuse me for a moment, I need to change and put the groceries in the fridge. Fuck, I hope the heat didn’t spoil them”, he says and disappears in the inner area of the mansion.

“I think he has a kink for spoiling us”, you say, sinking into the comfortable floor pillows.

Jungkook lies down next to you on his side and with his head supported by his propped up arm. You feed him a grape and eat one yourself.

“I think so too”, he agrees.

“What do you think of it?”

You feed him another grape, enjoying one yourself. He chews and swallows it before he answers you.

“You want my honesty?”

“Yeah.”

“I think we should play into it.”

You scoff, “what do you mean?”

Jungkook looks over his shoulder to make sure that Yoongi isn’t listening in. He sits up and closes the distance, whispering sweetly against your neck.

“He’s a tease and he knows it. He buys us all this stuff…” He dances his fingers over your thigh. “…takes us on these expensive trips…” His hand disappears under your towel. “…feeds us the highest quality food…” He moves his fingers through your folds.

“Kook”, you gasp, chasing him instantly but he pulls back and licks his fingers in his flirtatious attempt to showcase the high quality food he gets to eat because of Yoongi. You moan softly, gazing at his lips.

Jungkook purrs and slips his fingers free, dancing them on your thigh again. You are face to face, so close to kiss.

“I think we should do something for him. Show him that we’re grateful.”

“And you had to tell me your plan like this, because?” you get out.

His lips curl into a flirty grin, his eyes lower playfully. He shrugs his shoulders, scrunching his nose.

“You’re worse than Yoongi”, you mumble, looking away because otherwise you might get lost in his eyes forever.

Jungkook chuckles and kisses your shoulder before he rolls away from you and stands up. He struts to the shopping bags confidently and bends down to rummage through them. You roll onto your stomach, watching him. When he bends down like this, every inch of him looks delicious, but your eyes are naturally lingering on his muscular thighs and sculpted butt. He is already completely dry by now, except for his hair. Shit, you could eat him up. He is so handsome. To think that he is yours.

“Wow, the stuff you got is so pretty.”

“Right? Do you wanna see it on?”

“Just a few things.”

“Okay?”

Jungkook stands up with a few things in his hands, strutting back to you.

“Kook, did you get the bikini?”

“Just the panties.”

He hands them to you. He squats down, looking down at you with darkened eyes. Your crane your neck, gulping. He is so big, so muscular and his cock…it’s just there, so ready to be devoured. Still soft and relaxed, tempting you to work it until he is hard.

“Put them on, baby”, he tells you in a rasp.

“What?” you get out, looking into his eyes.

“The panties. Put them on.”

“Oh. Okay”, you can only whisper, scrambling to your feet as quickly as possible. Ever since Jungkook has control over his instincts, he has become the biggest and sexiest flirt ever. Sometimes being in the same room as him and Yoongi is like torture. “Fuck, I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

You put them on just as Jungkook slips into his own small, oh so tight briefs. They hold his cock in place in such a mouthwatering way. Once dressed, he reveals his open palm to you and the jewellery he has in it. He is sitting again. You sit down as well.

“May I?”

“Yeah.”

He climbs behind you, kneeling. He touches you with his empty hand, kissing your shoulder as he feels you up all the way from your hip to your chest. You arch into his touch, hoping that he will take these last few inches and touch your nipple.

But the touch never comes. Instead, he guides it to your back and pulls away so he could place the necklace around you. It sits perfectly between your tits, accentuating the curves of them. Jungkook traces it, claiming your neck in a kiss in sync with his fingers pinching your nipple.

“Shit, ah”, you let out, shuddering as a bolt of pleasure shoots through.

He doesn’t let the touch linger for long, crawling to the front and kneeling right between your legs. He presents a second necklace to you, pleading you with puppy eyes.

“Please?”

“You’re so hot”, you get out and rip it out of his hand, getting on your knees as well so you can place it around his neck.

He rolls his head back, closing his eyes. You can’t resist. The necklace is on his body, but you can’t stay back. You connect your tongue with his abs and drag it all the way up to his neck. You make sure to include his nipple and end it by tugging on the piercings on his ear with your teeth. Your fingers are spread on his pecs, thumbs rubbing his nipples.

“Fuck, baby”, he purrs, grabbing your hips possessively. Your skins collide in a naked, loud slap.

“Mine”, you rasp, putting distance between your bodies. He should feel how it is to be teased.

He looks at you, eyes hazy and head tilted to the side in an almost predatory way. As if he was a hunter waiting for its prey to make the wrong move. You practically fuck him with your eyes, entire body tense from holding back.

“Ah crap! My bracelet”, Yoongi curses loudly somewhere in the mansion, ripping you and Jungkook out of your trance.

You and he blink your eyes.

“So uhm, what were we doing exactly?” Jungkook asks, breaking some of the tension this way.

You laugh, he reciprocates.

“I think we were trying to show Yoongi our gratitude.”

“Yeah right. Fuck ___, I might need to bend you over tonight. If you let me.”

“Ever since you are spending more time with Tae, you are saying the worst things for my mental health.”

Jungkook laughs deeply, “Tae’s shocked just as much as you. You should stop underestimating me. I know what I’m saying.”

“Kook, please.”

He chuckles and stands up, offering you his hand.

“Come, let’s find Yoongi.”

You take it gladly, letting him pull you to your feet.

He claims you for just a second. Arm around your waist and hand on your ass, he leans down to kiss your neck sensually. You sigh, leaning into him with your hands on his chest. He flexes it just for you.

“Mine”, he purrs, squeezing your butt.

You swear that your knees actually buckle. He steps back and takes your hand.

“Now seriously, let’s find Yoongi.”

“What’s your plan anyway?” you ask, trying to follow as best as possible. He’s got you a little wobbly.

Jungkook tells you his plan as you look for Yoongi and needless to say, it leaves you dizzy.

You find Yoongi in the bedroom. His back is turned to you as he is busy sorting through his jewellery collection.

“Yoongi bear?”

He lifts his head.

“Yes, babygirl?” he acknowledges you, turning. His face falls, his eyes widen. “What the fuck?”

You and Jungkook close the distance in sensual steps. Yoongi is lost for words, eyes switching between your barely clothed body and Jungkook’s equally as bared body.

“We’ve been thinking. You’re always treating us so well, but we’ve never really shown you how grateful we actually are.”

You stand before Yoongi while Jungkook rounds him. He snakes his arms around him, lips claiming his neck and hands tracing his clothed stomach.

One might think that Yoongi would be tense at first, but that is not the case. Yoongi rolls his head to the side and closes his eyes halfway. They lower even more when you touch his chest.

“Can we show you how grateful we are?”

“You don’t gotta show me. I do it gladly”, he rasps.

“I know. You’ve got a kink for it, don’t you?”

He tenses up, grabbing your wrists. Bingo. You smirk, Jungkook smiles against Yoongi’s neck.

“We’ve got a kink for it too. Look at the diamonds on our skin. We dressed each other.”

“You did?” Yoongi rasps, breathing heavily. His grip on your wrists falters.

“We did and it made us so needy. You treat us so well, Yoongi love.” You giggle as you think of your next words, speaking them with a flirty sparkle in your eyes, “thank you for treating us so well, Daddy love.”

“Babies”, Yoongi moans, eyes rolling back sensually and body melting into Jungkook. “Fuck, don’t call me that.”

You exchange a triumphant look with the latter, holding hands for a brief second. You got Yoongi under your spell. Now all that is left to do is make him feel good. Not just emotionally but physically too.

“Wanna get somewhere more comfortable?” Jungkook suggests, rasping the words against Yoongi’s ear.

“Whatever you want, babyboy”, Yoongi speaks in his Domspace voice. It’s one of his sexiest voices.

“Let’s go to bed, yeah?”

“Yeah okay, babyboy.”

Yoongi lets you and Jungkook lie him down in bed. The three of you have been sharing it ever since you came here. Yoongi gave each of you your own bedroom, but he forgot that he is basically dating two catch weeds of people who are stuck to him as much as possible. Not that he minds. He made sure the beds were big enough for three.

He lies down in the very middle of it, eyes switching between your face and Jungkook’s. You and he are kneeling on all fours, looking down at him. The necklaces are tangling, your tits look so sexy like this and Jungkook’s pecs look huge. Yoongi doesn’t think about labels, he doesn’t define himself as a sexuality, but he knows whatever he is, it’s this right here. Pretty girl tits and muscular boy tits. That’s his sexuality. You and Jungkook with your pretty tits and expensive necklaces around your necks.

“Thank you for treating us so well”, you say and lower your lips to his neck.

Yoongi purrs, rolling his head to the side. A necklace traces the side of his face while your soft lips worship his neck. He opens his eyes, coming face to face with Jungkook’s pecs as the latter guides the necklace over Yoongi’s features. He shivers, letting out a breathy sigh as his long fingers close around a bundle of the sheets.

“Is this nice?” Jungkook asks, tracing Yoongi’s cheek.

“Yeah”, Yoongi croaks, tilting his head and parting his lips.

“I feel so handsome with the jewellery you buy us. You treat us so well.”

“So well, so fucking well”, you agree, lips nibbling on his most sensitive spot.

Yoongi moans softly, eyes going hazy. He knew that he was feeling a certain itch ever since the morning, but didn’t think he needed it scratched so fucking bad. You and Jungkook might joke around with him a lot, but you’ve got one thing right. Yoongi has the biggest kink for spending money on you. The bigger the purchase, the better. The wider your smiles, the deeper the satisfaction. The brighter the sparkle in your eyes, the hotter burns the fire in his stomach.

Yoongi has been burning ever since he took you on this insanely expensive trip and fulfilled your every wish. Waking up this morning to the sounds of you and Jungkook having breakfast in the courtyard, chatting about how much you loved this trip almost made Yoongi want to jerk off to your conversation. But he held back, forced his cock to stay soft and joined you, acting as if everything was alright.

He can’t hold back anymore. You and Jungkook smell like the expensive scents he got you, the sounds of the necklaces moving are in his ears and your words are paradise. He can’t hold back anymore.

“Fuck, you feel so good”, he gets out, arching his back once.

“Yoongi…” you mewl, teeth nibbling on his pierced ear. He’s got a thing for that.

Jungkook guides the necklace down to Yoongi’s jawline, tracing the curve of it. Goosebumps follow in its wake. Yoongi is hazy.

He ogles Jungkook’s nipples hungrily. The latter understands instantly, scooting closer so Yoongi could lick him.

“Babyboy”, Yoongi croaks, claiming what is his.

“Ah, yes”, Jungkook moans, dropping his head to the front.

You lift your lips from Yoongi’s ear, wanting to check what was happening. Yoongi uses the freedom to put his arm around Jungkook and pull him closer. His lips close around his nipple, sucking eagerly.

“Oh god”, Jungkook croaks, scrunching his face.

“You two are so sexy”, you get out and sit up. You can’t reach Yoongi’s neck like this, but that is okay. He has a body to explore instead.

You put your hands on his torso, guiding your touch over his stomach. He follows it with an arch and a deep purr in his chest. He changes nipples with Jungkook, pressing out a raspy “fuck.”

You learned that Yoongi likes it when you touch him over his clothes. His skin is sensitive enough for it. When you or Jungkook run your skilled hands over his clothed body, Yoongi is a goner. Today it is especially bad. He is shivering like crazy, soaking up the sensations greedily. Your hands are so hot in temperature, he is fucking burning up.

“You’re so strong, my love. God Kook, isn’t he just perfect? He’s treating us so well and he’s strong so he can protect us.”

“Yeah, so strong”, Jungkook agrees in a breathy sigh, face glowing in pleasure. His voice is just a little submissive. You tingle because of it. Look at him getting subby because Yoongi is sucking his nipples. Granted, you know how sensitive his nipples are, so you aren’t particularly surprised.

“Our strong, perfect Yoongi”, you purr, slipping your fingers to Yoongi’s nipples. The latter arches into your touch, lips slipping from Jungkook’s swollen nipple because his head rolls to the front as he gasps in surprise.

Jungkook feels edged, needing a few deep breaths to collect himself again. Once he does, his eyes instantly flit to your hands, wanting to see what makes Yoongi react like this.

You are pinching and rolling his nipples over the shirt. Hungry eyes gazing at his sculpted chest.

“Fuck, babygirl”, Yoongi gets out breathily.

“Does that feel good to you?”

“Yeah…”

Jungkook scoots closer and lowers his head. You let him, watching in delight as he wraps his mouth around Yoongi’s nipple, clothing and all.

“Kook”, Yoongi moans, grabbing a bundle of his damp hair. “Shit, that’s…ahm fuck…”

Jungkook mewls around him, sucking and licking eagerly. His thighs rub together needily, searching for any kind of relief.

“Fuck…Kook…”

You can’t do this. You have to join. You lower your lips to his other nipple, taking it inside, clothing and all.

Yoongi arches his back, grabbing a bundle of your damp hair as well. He growls, but ends it in a soft whimper, back dropping again and hips rolling against nothing.

Yoongi had an itch this morning, which he didn’t know he needed scratched so bad. That much he was aware of. But he wasn’t aware of how much he needed that scratch to be attention. Of course a quick, rough jerk off session could have done the job just fine, but fuck, this is so much better. The sensations are insane, the play with temperatures is leaving him dizzy. Your mouths are so wet and hot, leaving his shirt soaked and whenever you pull back for air the wet spot cools down. Sometimes you even help with it by blowing on it, forcing his body to shudder and his nipples to swell.

You tap Jungkook’s shoulder. Yoongi is too far gone to notice, eyes closed and lips parted in breathy moans.

“Hm?” Jungkook lets out, lifting his eyes to look at you.

You demonstrate what you were doing and how Yoongi reacts in shivers. Jungkook understands instantly, doing what you did. He blows on Yoongi’s soaked shirt and you do the same. Yoongi arches his back, hands slipping from your hair to instead grab your butts.

“Babies, you…urgh fuck.”

“That’s nice isn’t it?”

“So fucking nice”, Yoongi sighs, following it with a purr when you and Jungkook take his swollen nipples back into your warm mouths. You suck on it, while Jungkook licks. The play with different sensations makes Yoongi scrunch his nose in bliss. Your hands on his stomach do the rest. You are so eager in exploring him. Yoongi feels alive.

It took him a lot of time to built trust with you and Jungkook. It wasn’t your faults, but his own. He has issues with touch, that much has been clear since the very start. You and Jungkook worked around it at first and slowly, oh so slowly, made him comfortable. These days, Yoongi couldn’t imagine any other reality. To feel your touch, to experience every sensation and change of temperature is what he lives for when he is with you and Jungkook.

“Can I have more?” he asks raspily.

You and Jungkook lift your heads, exchanging a look. You are sharing the same thought. Yoongi is so hot.

“More?” You scoot up and lay down on your side, draping your arm over his chest. “What are you thinking? Mhm?”

Yoongi is lost in your eyes, hazy and foggy and so turned on.

“Touch my cock.”

“Fuck, you’re hot.”

“I can’t help it. I’m….” He lowers his eyes shyly. “...I’m horny.”

“Mhm good” you say, biting his neck gently before sitting up. Jungkook mirrors your position, waiting with a tingly chest for you to pull Yoongi’s pants down. You make sure to take the briefs as well.

Yoongi’s swollen cock springs free instantly, leaking on his shirt.

“Urgh fuck”, he gets out through gritted teeth, writhing on the sheets.

“You’re so hard”, Jungkook moans, eyes widening in hunger.

“You drive me insane.”

“We do?”

“Yeah, every fucking second. Shit, I’m so into spending money on you”, Yoongi finally confesses, almost whimpering the words. “It turns me on so much.”

“Oh Yoongi”, you say, wrapping your hand around his cock to pump it slowly.

“___ baby”, Yoongi moans loudly, throwing his head back and gripping the sheets.

“Is that doing something for you?”

“Yeah, holy fuck.”

“You’ve got the sexiest cock. Remember all the times he made us cum on it, Kookie?”

“I do, yeah”, Jungkook gets out, gulping hungrily.

“Remember, Yoongi?”

“Fuck just…touch me, stop teasing, you temptress”, he gets out in a hiss. He means no harm in it. He just gets too sensitive when you talk about how good he treats you in bed because his kink for showering his two babies in anything you want goes deeper than just material goods. He wants to see you satisfied in every aspect of your lives. That includes the bedroom.

You giggle, fluttering your lashes at him. You slip your hand to his base, signalling Jungkook to take over as well. He wraps his hand around Yoongi’s tip, pumping it in a smooth rhythm.

“Fuck, that’s….” Yoongi resorts to moaning and kicking the mattress, fingers tugging on the sheets. There are no words to describe the amount of pleasure he feels. It infects his entire body, feeling strongest in his cock and his legs.

Your hand is playing with his balls while Jungkook is working his cock. There is no difference between the softness of your palms but there is in strength. Jungkook is touching him with so much pressure while you handle his balls so carefully. Jungkook is rough, you are tender. Yoongi loves every second of it.

“Hyungie, you’re leaking”, Jungkook says, picking up the translucent droplets to spread them.

“He is? Wow, yes. Look at it. Do you like it that much, love?” you coo, squeezing his balls gently.

“Stop talking please”, Yoongi begs, cock throbbing in Jungkook’s hand and leaking all over his fingers.

You chuckle, exchanging a playful look with Jungkook. It is so fun to work up Yoongi. You know how high he currently feels. His head is definitely pounding and each second feels like too much. He is so into this. You and Jungkook feel so proud of it.

“More Kookie. We should give him more.”

“You’re right. He deserves to feel as good as he always makes us feel.”

Jungkook wraps his other hand around Yoongi’s heavy cock, jerking off him like this. You slide your other hand to his nipple, playing with it over his shirt. The fabric is still wet, sticking to his chest. The touch is so easy like this.

Yoongi yelps out an ecstatic “ah!” and lifts his hips off the sheets. Throaty but pitched mewls follow, his hips just kind of stay in the air as he chases Jungkook’s two handed touch.

His balls tighten in your hand. You squeeze down on them, thumb rubbing circles with just enough pressure to send hot pleasure down his legs and up his cock. Jungkook times it with skilled touches. He keeps his right hand around his tip, circling it slowly while he pumps his left hand around his shaft vigorously.

“I’m cumming”, Yoongi gets out, following it with a desperate growl.

“Don’t hold back”, you encourage him, pinching his nipple.

“Please cum for us”, Jungkook says, massaging his tip.

“Babies!” Yoongi yelps, breaking in your hands a second later. He shoots his white cream up his own chest, ruining his shirt with it. His moans are deep and drawn out, you and Jungkook moan with him, doing your very best to give him the best fucking orgasm he had in a long time.

And oh how successful you are, how Yoongi is shaking and trembling. The itch is finally scratched and fuck it hits so goddamn hard, Yoongi swears that he can see new colours behind his closed lids.

The comedown is electric. You and Jungkook are so eager, overstimulating Yoongi to the point he laughs panickedly, fingers grabbing your hands.

“Stop it, enough.”

“Sorry, we just love to touch you so much”, you say, releasing him of his torture. You lie down beside him, kissing his heated neck while your fingers play with the cum on his chest.

Jungkook lies down on the other side of Yoongi, playing with the cum on his stomach and sucking on his neck slowly.

Yoongi enjoys the affection with closed eyes and his hands running along your hips and butts. His palms are sweaty from keeping them clenched around the sheets for so long. His heavy rings feel rough on your skin in comparison to his soft palms.

“How was that?” you ask him, chasing his touch in slow rolls of your hips.

“Better than anything”, Yoongi lulls his words as if he was drunk.

“Did you like it?” Jungkook asks.

“So fucking much.”

You and Jungkook giggle, snuggling closer. Yoongi smiles fondly, soaking up the sound. He is so happy when he is with you and Jungkook. There is no other life for him. Only what he has with you and him.

“Can I just fucking ask what kinda devils possessed you to do that to me?”

“Does there have to be a reason for us to wanna make you cum?”

“I guess not.”

“Mhm, correct”, you nibble on his ear playfully, “but if you really wanna know. It’s because we wanna thank you for treating us to all of these nice things.”

“It makes me happy.”

“Mhm and turns you on”, Jungkook adds, biting his jawline gently.

Yoongi gives his butt a warning spank, doing the same to you as well when you snicker mischievously.

“And if it does?” he challenges.

“Nothing, we like it.”

Yoongi chuckles, “fuck, you two. I’m done for. I wanted to start with dinner.”

“Dinner can wait. You’re getting cuddled”, Jungkook says, slipping his hand under Yoongi’s shirt to feel up his stomach.

“In this heat? Are you surviving that, bun?”

“We can take a swim later.”

“Right and tease ___ again.”

“Right, we could.”

"Hey, not cool. Don’t gang up on me.”

Yoongi and Jungkook chuckle. You join them a second later, snuggling into Yoongi. Yoongi sighs happily, pulling you and Jungkook closer. He relaxes his body, melting even more when both you and Jungkook drape one leg over him. He is completely buried under you and Jungkook and it’s heaven to him.

“Shit, you two. What would I do without you, mhm?”

“Mhhhm, probably not lie in Morocco with your stomach messy from an orgasm because of a super epic handjob.”

Yoongi scoffs in amusement, smiling to himself.

“Super epic handjob?”

“Yeah, obviously. We made you arch your back.”

Yoongi laughs, squeezing you and Jungkook.

“Yeah, I definitely wouldn’t do that.”

He isn’t a clingy person, but with his two loves he can’t get enough. This is truly heaven.

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maharetscompound · 5 months ago

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Best of 2024 Lists - IWTV - Upating December 2024

A compilation of all the "Best of 2024" lists featuring Interview with the Vampire season 2.

I'm only including overall Best Shows, Best Episodes and Best Performances. Not including any other specific categories (like "Best Fantasy Show", etc).

Total Count (as of 12/30/24): 67

Nov 25: TV Guide, The 10 Best Shows of 2024--IWTV Rank: # 1

Dec 1: ArtForum, Best of 2024 Television--IWTV Rank: Featured

Dec 2: TV Line, The 20 Best TV Shows of the Year--IWTV Rank: #2

Dec 2: Vulture, The Best TV Shows of 2024--IWTV Rank: #3 on two critics' lists

Dec 2: LA Weekly, UnBinged Picks the Best TV Shows of 2024--IWTV Rank: Honorable Mention

Dec 3: Nerdist, Best TV Shows of 2024--IWTV Rank: Featured

Dec 3: Vanity Fair, The 22 Best TV Shows of 2024--IWTV Rank: Featured

Dec 3: Time, Best TV Shows of 2024--IWTV Rank: #7

Dec 4: IndieWire, The 32 Best TV Episodes of 2024--IWTV Rank: Episode 2x7, #12

Dec 5: Entertainment Weekly, The 20 Best TV Episodes of 2024--IWTV Rank: Episode 2x7, #11

Dec 5: Paste, The 30 Best TV Shows of 2024--IWTV Rank: #15

Dec 5: USA Today, The 25 Best TV Shows of 2024--IWTV Rank: #14

Dec 6: The Chicago Tribune, Best TV of 2024--IWTV Rank: Featured

Dec 6: TV Insider, 24 Best Scripted Shows of 2024--IWTV Rank: #1

Dec 6: IndieWire, The 15 Best TV Shows of 2024--IWTV Rank: #10

Dec 6: Slate, The 10 Best Shows of 2024--IWTV Rank: Honorable Mention

Dec 6: Variety, The Best TV Shows of 2024--IWTV Rank: #9

Dec 9: Decider, Best 24 Shows of 2024--IWTV Rank: #12

Dec 9: TV Guide, The 10 Best TV Episodes of 2024--IWTV Rank: Episode 2x7, #1

Dec 9: The Ringer, The Best TV Shows of 2024--IWTV Rank: #6

Dec 9: Polygon, The 50 Best TV Shows of 2024--IWTV Rank: #33

Dec 9: Empire, The Best TV Shows of 2024--IWTV Rank: Featured

Dec 10: NPR, The Best Movies and TV of 2024--IWTV Rank: Featured

Dec 10: Collider, The 25 Best TV Shows of 2024--IWTV Rank: Featured

Dec 10: Huffpost, The Best TV of 2024--IWTV Rank: Featured

Dec 11: Vulture, The 12 Best TV Performances of 2024--IWTV Rank: Jacob Anderson, featured

Dec 12: Buzzfeed, 25 TV Shows That Were So Amazing, Brilliant, And Even Heartbreaking, It's What Made Them The Best Of 2024--IWTV Rank: #2

Dec 12: Bandwagon Asia, Top Ten TV Series of 2024--IWTV Rank: #8

Dec 13: Mashable, The 21 Best TV shows of 2024-- IWTV Rank: #4

Dec 13: Pop Culture Planet, The Best TV Shows of 2024--IWTV Rank: Featured

Dec 14: The Hollywood Reporter, Hollywood Reporter Critics Pick the Best TV Shows of 2024--IWTV Rank: #5 (Angie Han's list)

Dec 14: Mashable, The 21 Best TV Episodes of 2024--IWTV Rank: Episode 2x7, #4

Dec 16: The A.V. Club, The 25 Best Shows of 2024--IWTV Rank: #2

Dec 16: TV Guide, The 10 Best TV Performances of 2024--IWTV Rank: Delainey Hayles, #2

Dec 16: Den of Geek, The Best TV Shows of 2024--IWTV Rank: #2

Dec 16: Slash Film, The 15 Best TV Shows Of 2024--IWTV Rank: #4

Dec 16: Vanity Fair, The 24 Best Performances of 2024--IWTV Rank: Jacob Anderson, Featured

Dec 16: RogerEbert.com, The 25 Best TV Series of 2024--IWTV Rank: #18

Dec 17: Inverse, The 25 Best Shows of 2024--IWTV Rank: #6

Dec 19: NY Post, The 10 Best TV Shows of 2024--IWTV Rank: Featured

Dec 19: Harper's Bazaar, The 25 Best TV Shows of 2024--IWTV Rank: #17

Dec 19: Esquire, The 10 Best TV Shows of 2024--IWTV Rank: #6

Dec 19: TribLive, Best TV Series of 2024--IWTV Rank: #5

Dec 20: Adweek, The 10 TV Shows You Need to Watch and Stream From 2024--IWTV Rank: #4

Dec 20: Gizmodo, The Best TV of 2024--IWTV Rank: Featured

Dec 20: Nine Entertainment, The Best TV shows of 2024--IWTV Rank: Featured

Dec 21: The Daily Beast, Our Favorite TV Shows, Episodes, and Performances of 2024--IWTV Rank: Featured

Dec 21: Les Numériques, Top 2024 : les 10 meilleures séries de l'année selon Les Numériques--IWTV Rank: #4

Dec 22: Sioph Media, Best Shows of 2024--IWTV Rank: #1

Dec 23: Yahoo News UK, The Best TV shows of 2024 from Rivals to The Traitors--IWTV Rank: Featured

Dec 23: But Why Tho?, Top TV Shows of 2024--IWTV Rank: #1

Dec 23: The A.V. Club, The Best TV Performances of 2024--IWTV Rank: Jacob Anderson, Featured

Dec 23: TV Insider, Best Shows of 2024 Critic's Picks--IWTV Rank: #9

Dec 23: The Root, Year-End Binge: The Best TV Series of 2024--IWTV Rank: Featured

Dec 23: The Boston Globe, The Top 10 TV Shows of 2024--IWTV Rank: #2

Dec 24: Movie Jawn, Best of 2024: The Best TV Shows of the Year--IWTV Rank: Featured

Dec 25: TV Insider, The 24 Best TV Episodes of 2024--IWTV Rank: Episode 2x7

Dec 25: Tell-Tale TV, Mads Misasi’s Top 10 TV Shows of 2024--IWTV Rank: #2

Dec 26: In Between Drafts, The Best TV Shows of 2024--IWTV Rank: #6

Dec 27: The Wrap, The Best TV Shows of 2024--IWTV Rank: Featured

Dec 27: The A.V. Club, The 15 Best TV Episodes of 2024--IWTV Rank: Episode 2x7

Dec 27: Tell-Tale TV, Alicia Gilstorf’s Top 10 TV Shows of 2024--IWTV Rank: #2

Dec 29: Snow Snob, 19 Best Shows from 2024 that Deserve to be in the Spotlight--IWTV Rank: Featured

Dec 29: TV Insider, The Best TV Performances of 2024--IWTV Rank: Jacob Anderson

Dec 30: Tell-Tale TV, Ashley Bissette Sumerel’s Top 10 TV Shows of 2024--IWTV Rank: #7

Dec 30: TV Fanatic, TV Fanatic’s Best Shows of 2024--IWTV Rank: Featured

#interview with the vampire #amc interview with the vampire #amc iwtv #iwtv s2 #iwtv

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coldgoldlazarus · 1 month ago

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Tahu - Salamander/Komodo Dragon/Bull/Bear/Samurai/Barbarian

Vakama - Phoenix/Clocktower/Factory/Tiger/Red Panda

Jaller - Crab/Samurai/Spartan

Gali - Angelfish/Shark/Atlantian

Nokama - Giant Squid/Aquarium/University/Orca/Flying Fish/Water Strider

Hahli - Lionfish/Angler Fish/Eel

Lewa - Dragonfly/Snake/Monkey/Flying Squirrel/Aztec

Matau - Monkey/Biplane/Suspension Bridge/Feathered Utahraptor

Kongu - Gecko/Hummingbird/Falcon/Lobster/Gorilla/Vampire Squid

Onua - Daddy Long Legs Spider/Steam Shovel/Gorilla/Mongol

Whenua - Pillbug/Bear/Library/Zoo/Warehouse/Mole

Nuparu - Stealth Bomber/Bat/Manta Ray

Kopaka - White Tiger/Wolf/Polar Bear/Knight

Nuju - Snowy Owl/Observatory/Lighthouse/Chameleon/Bat

Matoro - Narwhal/Death's Head Moth/Arctic Fox

Pohatu - Kangaroo/Scorpion/Gladiator/Outbacker

Onewa - Giraffe/Quarry/Auto Shop/Bull/Antelope/Komodo Dragon/Jumping Spider

Hewkii - Armadillo/Dingo/Manta Ray

Takanuva - Hummingbird/Great Plains Nomad/Crab

Ahkmou - Scorpion/Scarab/Bazaar/Cuttlefish

Helryx - Eel/Crocodile/Seahorse/Sea Serpent/Viking

#not a reblog #bionicle #bonkle #bonkles #assigning animals by vibes alone #(animals and other random stuff)#really struggled with some of these #some are easy #for others nothing quite feels right

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fangsandfracturedhearts · 5 months ago

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Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Chapter 30: A Brand, A Tether

Summary: After embracing eternity as a vampire spawn under Astarion's wing, the Crimson Palace becomes a haunting symbol of the man he once was. As his personality unravels into a dark abyss, you flee. A year of hardship unveils the harsh reality of existence as a vampire spawn.

Just as all hope seems lost, a twist of fate reunites you with Astarion, revealing a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows. As you navigate the complexities of your relationship, you must confront the unsettling truth behind the Rite of Profane Ascension and the devilish secrets it holds.

In a race against time, you embark on a daring quest to save Astarion from his descent into darkness. With each choice you make, the stakes grow higher, testing the limits of your courage and determination.

Will Astarion find redemption, or is he destined to succumb to his own inner turmoil?

Word Count: 6.1k

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x female!Tav Spawn

Warnings: [Will try to continue to add more, but in general expect explicit content for mature audiences]

Possible spoilers. Eventual Explicit Content. Slow Burn. Thoughts of Suicide. Violence. Blood. Injury. Mature Content. Self-Harm. Mentions of in-game content. Completely fabricated camp events. Mentions of Astarion's Trauma.

If you notice a very critical tag missing, please don't hesitate to let me know

Rating: Explicit 18+ - [Meant For Mature Audience]

The marketplace of Abriymoch is a sprawling bazaar carved from the very heart of a volcanic city. Its jagged pathways twist and writhe like molten rivers frozen mid-flow. Gouts of steam hiss from the vents scattered throughout the market, shimmering in the ashen air and leaving a film of sweat across your brow. You stumble, your legs still trembling beneath your weight. Astarion, ever the picture of poise, watches your clumsy movement with disdain.

“Honestly, pet,” he scoffs with a liberal amount of disdain. “If you are trying to garner sympathy from the locals with this pathetic display, you’re going about it all wrong. You look less ‘helpless waif’ and more ‘drunken oaf.’”

You grit your teeth, refusing to rise to the bait. The crowd swirls around you, a sea of exotic traders and infernal beings bartering wares in harsh, guttural tongues.

Astarion pauses at a vendor peddling enchanted garments. The merchant is a stern-looking fire Genasi with skin the colour of burning coals and hair that flickers like a living flame.

“Do you have anything with resistance to cold?” Astarion inquires, his tone polite but distant, like someone humouring a rather dull child.

“Resistance to cold? In a place like Abriymoch?” The merchant’s laughter is like crackling, dry tinder-catching fire. “Strange request.”

Astarion quirks an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “Oh, we all have our peculiarities,” he remarks, glancing at you. “For instance, I travel with a half-dead liability that could use some thawing.”

The merchant doesn’t catch the barb, but you do, and it tightens something bitter in your stomach. Astarion leaves the stall and continues to a nearby weapons stall, where an array of daggers gleam under the angry light of the sky.

The weaponsmith watches Astarion with wary respect as he plucks a dagger from the display, testing the balance, twirling it between his fingers with practiced elegance.

“The balance is off,” he accuses the merchant while balancing the dagger on his finger, where the blade meets the hilt.

The weaponsmith stiffens, his soot-streaked hands twitching as if to snatch the dagger back, but Astarion's casual demeanour and the faint, predatory edge in his smirk keep him rooted in place. "Off? Impossible. My blades are unmatched in all of Abriymoch!"

Astarion tilts his head, the motion serpentine. “Unmatched? How charmingly ambitious. But look here—” He flips the dagger, the blade catching the fiery gleam of the volcanic light, and presses the hilt toward the merchant's chest. “Feel the weight shift. It pulls just enough to ruin a throw. Not much, but enough to cost someone their life if they miscalculated.”

The merchant reluctantly takes the dagger, testing it as Astarion instructed. His scowl deepens, a reluctant recognition in his eyes. “Perhaps, but most wouldn’t notice.”

“I’m not most,” Astarion purrs, folding his arms with infuriating elegance. “I make a point to demand perfection in all things. Now, if you have a blade worthy of someone of my calibre, perhaps we can do business. If not, I’ll take my coin elsewhere.”

The merchant hesitates and then begrudgingly reaches beneath the stall’s counter, pulling out a sheathed blade. Its scabbard is simple and unassuming, but the moment the merchant unsheathes the dagger, a low hum fills the air. The blade gleams unnaturally, the surface etched with infernal runes that flicker faintly as though alive.

“Is this... adequate for your ‘particular talents’?” the merchant asks, his tone edged with irritation.

Astarion takes the dagger delicately, his movements reverent, as if handling an artifact rather than a weapon. He tests it with the same methodical precision. “Now this,” he murmurs, his voice almost too soft to hear over the din of the market, “is more like it.”

He tosses a handful of gold onto the stall, far less than the weapon is likely worth, and the merchant opens his mouth to protest. Before he can utter a word, Astarion's crimson gaze flickers to him, silencing any objection with a look.

“That was dangerous. You didn’t need to humiliate him,” you say quietly, your voice strained but firm.

He glances at you, an eyebrow raised in mock surprise. “Humiliate? I was doing him a service. If anything, he should thank me for pointing out his incompetence.”

There’s no use arguing; he thrives on it, feeding off your frustration. His dismissive, detached tone sets your teeth on edge.

“You don’t have to make everyone feel small, Astarion,” you manage, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

He stops abruptly, turning to face you, and the smirk vanishes. His expression is cold and empty, sending shiver through you despite the ambient heat. “What would you have me do? Be kind? Generous? Spare the feelings of a man who wouldn’t hesitate to cheat us if given the chance?”

His leer sharpens, pinning you in place. “This world—my world—does not reward kindness, pet. It eats it alive. You would do well to remember that.”

Astarion straightens, his composure snapping back into place. The smirk returns but feels hollow now, an echo of something long dead. “Now, shall we move along? I believe there’s a merchant selling potions just ahead. Unless, of course, you would like to chastise me further?”

You swallow hard, the sting of his words cutting deeper than you’d like to admit. You trail behind, struggling to keep up, the exhaustion in your limbs making every step feel like wading through molten slag. Your vision swims, the heat, and fatigue conspiring to make the world tilt and warp.

Your muscles feel like melting wax, quivering under the strain of merely standing. Every step you take seems to echo inside your skull, each footfall a sluggish, off-kilter drumbeat.

Astarion glides through the marketplace like a shark through dark waters, all grace and cunning wrapped in a veneer of aristocratic disdain. His pale hand darts out to grab your wrist, his grip firm yet cold, yanking you back when you nearly trip over a mound of smouldering obsidian gravel.

“If you insist on stumbling about like a drunk kobold, I’m going to have to put a leash on you,” he drawls without even sparing you a glance.

You can’t muster the energy to fire back while your head spins, and your legs feel like they've been hollowed out, filled with something weightless and unreliable. Astarion, for all his cruel mockery, never lets you truly fall. His fingers linger too long on your waist, and when you falter near a pack of bickering devils, he hooks an arm around you with a grip that’s almost protective.

There is no way to know if it's genuine concern or some twisted way to ensure his possession—his property—remains unharmed.

“Illyria!”

Your name echoes through the haze of exhaustion. At first, it barely registers—just another sound slipping through your muddled mind, something distant and unreal, like the fading remnants of a dream that refuses to settle into memory. Your thoughts stumble, sluggish, struggling to bridge the gap between the voice and the face it belongs to.

Karlach.

The realization lands with all the grace of an avalanche. Then, like a knife driven straight through your chest, comes the dread. Your breath catches, not that your lungs require it, but the reflex remains—like the ghost of something you used to need.

Karlach. Here. Now. Calling out to you, her voice undeniably real, slicing through the crowd. You feel the bloodless chill seep through your body. If she’s here, if they are here, then everything becomes infinitely more complicated.

More dangerous.

Your muscles lock, heartless chest tightening as you desperately wish to disappear, to blend into this infernal marketplace. But there’s nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and as the dread coils tighter, you know there’s no avoiding the collision that’s about to unfold.

Karlach barrels towards you, a smile that could light up the Hells themselves, breaking across her face. Her hand claps down on your shoulder, and you feel a pang of guilt mixed with relief. It’s like being washed in sunlight you can’t feel—a distant echo of what should be joy but isn’t.

Wyll comes up beside her, his stance refined but alert, one hand resting easily on the pommel of his sword. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he says with a grin that holds more than a hint of worry, his eyes flicking from you to Astarion and back. “What in the Nine Hells are you doing down here?”

Astarion’s reaction is immediate, turning smoothly to face them. His smile spreads, practiced and gleaming, like a snake basking in the warmth of its next meal. “Ah, our delightful companions,” he purrs, and you hate how convincing he sounds. He wraps an arm around your waist, his touch both possessive and delicate, like the petal of a rose lined with thorns. “We are on our honeymoon if you can believe it. Such a romantic locale, don’t you think?”

Karlach’s eyebrows shoot up; her confusion is blatant and genuine. “You’re married? Since when?”

You feel like you’re shrinking under her gaze, your words caught in a tangle somewhere in your throat. It’s too much effort to speak, too much to force a smile and make it look natural. Astarion, of course, has no such trouble. He lets out a silken laugh, pressing a kiss to your temple that makes your insides warp.

“Since not too long ago,” he says, his lips curving in that infuriating, perfect way.

His fingers trace little patterns on your hip—a touch that feels like a brand and a tether, keeping you locked in place.

Wyll’s eyes narrow slightly. “A honeymoon. In Avernus,” he repeats as if tasting the words for poison. “I’m not one to judge unconventional choices, but surely you’ve had your fill of danger?”

“Exactly!” Karlach interjects, folding her arms over her chest, her usual buoyant demeanour dimmed by suspicion. “I mean, come on, there’s more romantic places out there. Waterdeep? The Moonshae Isles? Literally, anywhere that’s not a giant inferno filled with devils?”

Astarion only grins wider, his charm like a net tightening around them, every word carefully spun. “Well, Illyria and I do so love a bit of adventure.”

You force yourself to nod, the movement small and tense. Your silence is stretching on too long, and you can feel Karlach and Wyll trying to read between the lines, searching your face for the real story. Panic claws at you, whispering that they’ll see through it, try to intervene, and then everything will unravel.

Karlach’s hand squeezes your shoulder. “You alright, soldier?” she asks, her deep voice tempered with a gentleness she usually reserves for friends in pain.

The familiarity nearly unravels you, but you muster every scrap of energy left in your drained body. You paint on a smile, one bright enough to rival the lava streams cutting through the landscape, and infuse your voice with a sickly sweetness.

“I’m more than alright. We’re on our honeymoon!” You gesture broadly to the fiery expanse around you as if the hellish panorama could ever be described as a lover’s paradise. “What could be more romantic than the Hells? Endless warmth, scenic infernos… truly the stuff of fairy tales.”

Astarion chuckles, though it never reaches his eyes. “Yes, darling, the stuff of fairy tales, indeed. It’s been an unforgettable trip so far.”

Karlach exchanges a glance with Wyll, her worry far less concealed. "Well, why don’t we celebrate your... unforgettable trip with a drink?”

Her intonation is casual, but the invitation is a thinly veiled attempt to feel out the truth. An interrogation masquerading as a reunion, with your freedom—or lack thereof—dangling in the balance. Panic coils in your gut. This is a game of survival, and one wrong move could end in disaster. If they push too hard, if they try to take you from Astarion, he won’t hesitate to make an example of them.

“Oh, that sounds splendid. We would love to celebrate!” Astarion exclaims, in full performance mode, before you can think of a way to get out of it.

Your knees feel as weak as a sapling in a storm, but you must stay strong. You might be caught in Astarion’s web, but their lives are still salvageable. You’ll have to put on the performance of a lifetime.

Their lives depend on it, even if yours is already forfeit.

The tavern they lead you to is a significant step up from the dingy inn Astarion chose to stay in. Here, the walls are decorated with tapestries and Baatorian green steel beams that look like they’ve stood through centuries. The clientele is far more refined—devils in resplendent armour, tieflings with elaborate jewellery, and the occasional cambion squaring you up to decide if you’re worth the trouble.

Karlach slaps a handful of gold onto the polished bar and orders rounds for everyone, her exuberance filling the room like a bonfire. You can’t help but watch her, a spark of warmth flickering in your chest despite your exhaustion. She seems more at ease than when you last saw her, the embers of her soul burning brightly. Wyll stands at her side, poised as ever, but his smile softens when he catches Karlach laughing.

“So,” you say, leaning forward and propping your chin on your hand, determined to steer the conversation away from the sword of Damocles hanging over your neck. “What’s the story this time? Have you managed to fix Karlach’s heart yet, or did you take a few too many scenic detours?”

Karlach laughs, warm and infectious, her eyes crinkling. “Oh, you wouldn’t believe the things we’ve had to do,” she starts, taking a swig of her drink. “There was this one devil, right? Called himself Zarum the Unyielding. We had to barter with him for an infernal gear needed for my engine, and let me tell you, that bastard has a sense of humour as twisted as a corkscrew. He tried to make me arm wrestle his pet hellhound while fire rained down from above. Not my finest moment.”

You can’t help but grin, picturing Karlach in the thick of that chaos, muscles straining against the weight of a monstrous hound. “Please, tell me you won.”

“Damn right, I did!” She slams her fist on the table, making the mugs jump. “Sent that mangy mutt flying across the room! Of course, Wyll had to play the diplomat afterward because, apparently, smashing a hellhound into a pillar doesn’t exactly warm people up to you.”

Wyll leans in, lips quirking. “Someone has to clean up after her,” he says teasingly. “I managed to talk our way out of Zarum, turning us into charred statues, but only after a harrowing game of infernal chess. He was relentless, but I had a few tricks up my sleeve.” His expression grows momentarily serious. “It’s been... taxing. Every step forward seems to come at a cost, but we’ve made progress. We’ll get there.”

You nod, swallowing back the lump forming in your throat. Despite the weight of the hellish environment, it’s easy to get swept up in their tales and forget the shadow looming over your table. Astarion’s hand finds your knee and your entire body tenses. His touch is deceptively gentle, fingers tracing circles in a mockery of tenderness.

He smiles, the picture of a devoted husband, his crimson eyes warm and full of fake adoration. “My love,” he murmurs, leaning in to nuzzle your temple, “aren’t our friends the most charming of heroes? It’s a shame we don’t have such riveting stories of our own to share, hm?”

You hate how your body betrays you, leaning into his touch because it’s familiar and easier to pretend. For a heartbeat—or the lack of one—you let yourself imagine this is real. That he’s yours and not the cold, calculating monster he’s become.

Karlach’s concern etches lines into her brow. She doesn’t seem to buy your act entirely but hasn’t pressed the issue. Not yet, at least. You sip your drink, willing your trembling hands to still, and nod along as they continue to share their misadventures.

Wyll leans forward, elbows on the table, his posture deceptively relaxed, though his eyes are as sharp as a blade unsheathed. “You know, Astarion, I’ve always been told a good husband keeps his wife’s strength up. Ensures she’s well-fed, happy, not wasting away.” His words slip from his mouth with the elegance of a courtly challenge, smooth but barbed.

The jab lands with precision. You can see how it pierces Astarion’s pride, even if his expression remains nonchalant. He offers a slow smile, polished and perfect as if nothing could ruffle his aristocratic feathers. “Yes, well, culinary delights are dreadfully hard to come by in this charming inferno. We make do, don’t we, my love?” His fingers brush your shoulder, trailing down your arm in a caress that looks adoring but feels as cold as the grave.

Karlach’s eyes narrow. They flick between the two of you like she’s searching for cracks in a beautifully painted vase. Wyll tilts his head, suspicion stamped into his usually warm features, and you feel the suffocating weight of their concern.

As Wyll’s question burrows into your mind, the realization snaps into place. Your fatigue, your stumbling, the fog in your thoughts—it all clicks. Bloodlust. Your hunger, suppressed and strangled by compulsion, has seeped into every corner of your being, leeching your strength away.

You’ve been wilting in slow motion.

A curse slips from your lips, too quiet for anyone but Astarion to hear. He tenses beside you, his hand still tracing lazy patterns along your arm, and you’re suddenly aware of the precarious dance you’re both performing. The thin veneer of civility, the fragile mask of wedded bliss—it’s all dangerously close to shattering.

“Astarion, perhaps you would accompany me to gather the next round?” Wyll suggests. “I’d rather have you there with me to ensure the drinks are properly measured. The barkeep seems to think she knows how to pour, but I’ll be honest—there’s not a chance I’ll trust her judgment when it comes to spirits.”

“As if your taste is any better,” Astarion retorts. “The last time you picked something, I had to spit it out. We are lucky I did not turn into a puddle of regret.”

Wyll chuckles, brushing off the jab. “You wound me, my friend,” he says, but his tone holds an undercurrent of genuine camaraderie. “But seriously, I’m not going to let you keep Illyria locked away in this hellhole without a proper drink.”

There’s a flicker of something cold in Astarion’s gaze, but it vanishes, replaced by his polished demeanour. He stands, smoothing his clothes, the movements exaggeratedly elegant. “Fine, I’ll humour you.” He looks over at you, his gaze too sharp for comfort, as if he’s measuring your every reaction. “Don’t expect me to enjoy this.”

Wyll grins, a knowing, friendly grin that only makes Astarion’s disinterest seem even more feigned. “Oh, I don’t expect much from you at all.”

Karlach watches Astarion and Wyll walk away, the tension visible in the set of her jaw and the furrow of her dark brows. As soon as she’s sure they’re out of earshot, she leans in, dropping to a whisper, rough with worry.

“Hey, are you sure you’re alright? You look like you’ve been dragged backward through the Nine Hells and then asked to do it again, and don’t even try to tell me it’s all rainbows and roses with your vampire beau. I know him.” Her eyes search your face, wide with hope and fear. “If something’s wrong, we can get you out; you know that, right?”

You force a light and dismissive laugh, even as her earnestness threatens to crack the fragile mask you’re wearing. “Karlach, it’s fine,” you insist, waving your hand as if brushing away her worries like cobwebs.

You sip from your drink, savouring the way the alcohol dulls your senses and lets the edges of your reality blur just a bit more.

Karlach isn’t convinced. Her mouth pulls into a grim line, and she glances over her shoulder to where Wyll and Astarion have disappeared. “You’re sure? Because I swear on my hammer if he’s hurting you—” She stops herself. Her hands clench into fists, and she looks ready to fight the entire Hells.

You reach out, touching her arm in what you hope is a reassuring gesture. “I’m okay,” you lie, the words tasting bitter even as you say them. “Promise. Besides, you’ve got your own battles to fight, right? Focus on your heart. Let me handle this.” She’s still not convinced, and you wade through your muddled thoughts to grasp at something to redirect her attention. You lean forward and wiggle your shoulders. “Speaking of things on your plate, you and Wyll seem pretty... close these days.”

Karlach’s crimson cheeks deepen in hue, but it’s nearly impossible to see the blush against her naturally red skin. Still, there’s no mistaking how her eyes dart away or how she fiddles with a loose thread on her armour. “Oi, you cheeky little thing.”

You shrug, the movement loose and playful in your half-drunken state. “What can I say? I live for the drama. Spill it.”

“Alright, alright, but if you breathe a word of this to Wyll, I’ll throw you in the Styx myself, got it?” She gives you a mock-threatening glare, but there’s no heat behind it, only fondness.

You make a show of zipping your lips. It’s an easy way to shift the focus, but more than that, you want to know. You crave a story that doesn’t end in blood and tears, a narrative where hope isn’t a lie. “Locked up tight. Now, out with it!”

She groans, covering her face with one giant hand. “Okay, fine. It’s just—gah, he’s so good, y’know? And not just in that heroic, ‘I’m here to save the day’ way. He’s got this soft side that, ugh, I never thought I’d get to experience.” Her voice drops, a little more vulnerable. “He looks at me like I’m not a monster, like... like I’m someone worth caring about.”

Your chest tightens as her words pull at the threads of your fragile memories. You can almost see it: Astarion’s gaze, soft with adoration, as if you were the only thing that mattered.

It feels distant now, like a reflection from another lifetime.

Try as you might; the images slip through your grasp like sand sifting through your fingers. The warmth you once clung to overshadowed by the weight of indifference. That cold, detached stare has taken its place in your mind, freezing over the fragile remnants of tenderness like frost devouring the last blooms of spring.

You nod mechanically, forcing a wry smile you hope passes for composure. Inside, though, something within you keens, low and mournful, like the call of an animal that knows it’s been abandoned. You want to brush it aside, blame it on exhaustion, the chaotic haze of your current state, but the ache lingers, carving itself into the hollow places you’d rather not examine.

“Has he, you know, made a move?” You press the conversation onward.

“Okay, okay, don’t get your hopes up too much. There’s still this whole ‘heart of infernal iron’ thing, yeah? We’ve had moments. Close ones.” She bites her lip, and for a second, she looks almost bashful. “He held my hand the other night. Just sat there with me, thumb brushing over my knuckles, telling me stories about his dad. He’s so damn gentle. It’s driving me wild.”

You clutch your chest dramatically as if you have a heart that could swoon. “Oh, gods, that’s adorable! The Blade of Frontiers, bringing you to your knees with hand-holding and sweet words.”

Karlach snorts, smacking you lightly on the shoulder. “Shut up, you hopeless romantic. You’re the one who dragged me into this mushy mess.” Her smile softens, though, and she sighs. “It’s just... nice, you know? To feel like someone sees past all the rage and the fire and thinks there’s something good in here.” She taps her chest, where her broken heart lies.

You nod, suppressing the urge to clutch at your own empty cavity. “Yeah,” you murmur, more to yourself than to her. “I know exactly what you mean.”

“Enough about my love life. What about you, huh? You and that broody bastard of yours. How’s the ‘honeymoon’ really treating you?” She wiggles her eyebrows, mimicking your earlier playfulness, but there’s an edge to her question.

You force a laugh; the sound a little too high. “Oh, you know us. It’s all passion and drama.”

When Astarion and Wyll return, you snatch up the shots before anyone can say a word, downing them quickly. The moment Astarion's gaze lands on you, you feel the need to perform, to throw on the mask you’ve fashioned from necessity. Your mood shifts like a chameleon in self-defence, all smiles and sparkles, like a mirror reflecting a happier, more foolish version of yourself.

Astarion tuts you with a blend of reprimand and mock concern, lips twisting into an almost-believable smile, the edges too sharp to be truly soft. “Darling, if you keep drinking like that, I will have to carry you back.”

You match his grin with a lopsided one, tilting your head as you lean into his side. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You tease with a pitch of flirtation, every syllable a painted-on lie. “It’d give you an excuse to put those strong arms to use.”

The words taste bitter, but you let them roll off your tongue with ease. He plays along, slipping an arm around your waist. You arch into it, craving more—more closeness, more gentleness, more love. You crave it so desperately that you almost forget this is all a game, a farce to keep Wyll and Karlach from guessing the truth.

“Anything for my beautiful bride,” he purrs in a timbre that’s melted chocolate peppered with razor blades.

He leans in, pressing a kiss to your temple, and it’s so convincing you almost believe it yourself. Karlach watches with suspicion lingering in her eyes, but she forces a smile for your sake. Wyll tries to lighten the mood, but you can’t focus on his words. All you feel is Astarion's touch; all you see is the dance you’re trapped in. You keep pushing for more affection, pressing yourself against him, willing him to pretend just a little longer.

Even if only for a moment, you want the illusion to consume you and drown out the truth.

Astarion obliges because his facade must hold, but you know it’s as fragile as spun sugar, ready to shatter the instant your friends catch a glimpse of the cracks, and good Gods, they are looking.

The room spins, like a carousel teetering off its axis, and the drinks keep flowing. Words blend, barely more than sounds strung together by tenuous coherence, but the performance must go on.

“You must have stories from the Hells. Some daring escapes, I’d imagine, and plenty of danger,” Wyll remarks skeptically.

You laugh a bit too loudly, feeling the strain in your throat as it mimics mirth. “Oh, the danger. Demons and devils at every turn. Barely had time to catch our breath between all the romance and life-or-death scrapes.”

The word romance tumbles out like something bitter wrapped in sweetness. You hiccup, and Astarion squeezes your hip in warning.

Karlach folds her arms, leaning back in her chair with a scrutinizing look that could pierce steel. “Come on, though,” she presses. “It doesn’t make sense. You don’t look like you’ve been getting enough to eat. And those shadows under your eyes... ”

You force a grin, the corners of your lips pulling tight. “Food’s not so easy to come by when you’re constantly running for your life,” you offer, slurring just a fraction too much. You swat Astarion’s chest. “But he takes care of me, doesn’t he?”

You giggle, the sound cracks and lean into him more, hoping the pressure will keep your unravelling self together.

Astarion’s fingers brush along your collarbone, leaving warmth in their wake like hot coals dragged over your skin. “My poor love,” he croons in a perfect blend of affection and concern. “I’d drag the moon down from the sky if it meant you’d have a proper meal, but alas, our resources are... limited.”

Karlach’s expression tightens, suspicion flaring, but she forces her tone to remain light. “Limited, sure, but you’ve always found ways to keep each other safe, right?”

You nearly choke on another sip of ale, but Astarion saves you, his grip tightening. “Indeed,” he says smoothly in a timbre of honeyed poison. “I would never let anything happen to her.” “You know,” Wyll ventures, tilting his head with that princely charm, “if it’s getting a bit too noisy down here, we’ve got a room upstairs. It might be better to catch up in private, where we don’t have to shout over the music and the chaos.”

Karlach’s eyes flick between you and Astarion, and she nods, her heavy hand clinking against her ale mug. “Yeah. It might be good to just... unwind away from all this racket. We could keep things nice and cozy, just the four of us. What do you think?”

The pressure wraps around you like a clamp, your half-drunken haze scattering for a moment of sharp clarity. Alone. No public eyes. Just you, Astarion, and two well-meaning friends who have no idea of the danger they’re inviting.

Your smile wavers, the effort of keeping up your carefree facade corroding. Your tongue feels thick, each word sticking like tar as you stumble for an excuse that could keep this from spiralling out of control.

“Astarion and I have... other plans. Isn’t that right, darling?” Your voice lowers, taking on a coy, suggestive edge. "Something... a little more private.”

Astarion’s crimson gaze gleams, and you can see the moment he seizes the opportunity to torment you. “Oh?” He purrs, leaning in so close you can feel the warmth of his breath against your neck. “Do tell them exactly what you want, little love.”

Your face burns, and not from the alcohol. You swallow, your mind spinning, but your mouth, traitorous and loose from drink, follows his demand without pause. “I want... you,” you stammer, and the mortification crashes over you, but you can’t stop. “Right now. Alone.”

Karlach coughs, shifting uncomfortably, and Wyll hides a grimace behind his hand. You almost feel relief, thinking your performance might have been scandalous enough to dissuade them, but Astarion, ever the master manipulator, sees your hope and twists it into something cruel.

He chuckles, the sound deep and rich, then he pulls back, leaving a cold void where his warmth had pressed against you. “Patience, my darling. You can have me... after our little gathering.” His smile widens, more predatory than affectionate. “We wouldn’t want to deny our friends a chance to reconnect.”

Your stomach drops, dread pooling like lead. You’ve played right into his hands and made a fool of yourself for his amusement. The game isn’t over, and you realize, with a heavy sense of resignation, that Astarion won this round.

You stumble up the stairs, each step a monumental effort, your limbs weakened by a mix of drunkenness and something more sinister. The room spins at odd angles, like a stage poorly set, but Astarion keeps you upright with a firm grip. It's not a comfort, though—more like a leash made of flesh binding you to his side.

The room is a world away from the dingy quarters you and Astarion are stuck with. Real soap sits in a wooden dish by the washbasin, its lavender scent wafting through the air. The bath gleams, free from the murky stain of questionable water, its brass fixtures polished to a golden shine.

Wyll and Karlach sit in chairs and order food from the tavern below—platters of steaming meats, freshly baked bread, and odd fruits. They urge you to eat, gentle but insistent.

“Come on,” Karlach coaxes. “It’ll do you good to get some real food in you. No sense in wasting away.”

You shake your head, refusing. The food, though beautifully prepared, isn’t your kind of sustenance. Astarion, on the other hand, puts on a theatrical display. He picks up a roasted chicken leg and bites into it with almost exaggerated enthusiasm, chewing slowly, eyes closed as if savouring every morsel. It’s a performance, of course. He doesn’t need it, but he does it anyway, wordlessly taunting you.

He’s showing off, reminding you of everything you’ve lost, and the unspoken challenge: Can you keep up your facade as well as he does, or will the cracks finally show? Wyll, ever the noble and well-meaning soul, sits forward. “You know, if food is hard to come by… perhaps I can help. It’s no trouble, really.”

His meaning is clear, his eyes shining with a kindness so genuine it’s almost blinding. He’s offering himself to you, his blood, in an act of compassion you don’t deserve. Your mind flashes back to the horrifying moment you sank your fangs into Shadowheart, driven by the ravenous hunger that makes you more monster than person.

Panic strikes like a lightning bolt, and you leap backward so violently that your chair crashes to the floor with a deafening clatter. Before you know it, you’re at the far end of the room, back pressed against the wall as though you could force yourself to disappear. The room feels smaller, your breath coming in shallow, unnecessary gasps. Even Astarion’s eyes round with surprise.

“No,” you croak.

Wyll stands, hands raised in a calming gesture. “Hey, hey, it’s alright. I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just an offer, nothing more.”

His good intentions should comfort you, but they don’t. The kindness in his eyes burn like holy water.

Karlach looks between you and Wyll, her concern evident. “It’s alright, Illyria. We’re just worried about you, is all. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Before you can respond, Astarion steps forward, a gleam of wicked delight dancing in his crimson eyes. “Actually, darling, that’s not a half-bad idea. Wyll here has such a noble, rich flavour, I imagine. You should indulge.”

You turn to him, horror rising in your chest. He’s serious—deadly serious. He knows exactly what he’s suggesting and knows that once you sink your fangs in, you won’t be able to stop. He’s baiting you, trying to push you over the edge, and there’s a twisted pleasure in his smile.

“Astarion, no,” you breathe, but the words barely leave your lips.

Your body trembles, dread crawling up your spine like a colony of spiders. He inches closer, each step slow and deliberate, as if savouring your fear.

“Oh, come now, love,” he coos. “Think of it as a… bonding experience. You wouldn’t want to refuse such a generous offer, would you?”

Astarion’s hands slide to your waist, fingers pressing in with an iron grip that looks deceptively tender. He pulls you away from the wall as if he’s steadying you, but you feel the force behind it, the quiet menace woven through his touch. You meet his gaze, and all you see is darkness—an abyss where warmth and humanity should be replaced by something cruel, twisted beyond the realm of mercy.

“Please,” you whisper, a plea you barely dare to voice, but he’s relentless, his smile widening.

Compulsion begins to weave through your limbs and the insidious command slides under your skin like a parasite. Feed, it whispers, a wordless insistence from Astarion that overrides your will, bending you to his desire.

Your legs move without your consent, carrying you forward in stilted, jerky steps. Each movement feels like your bones are being puppeteered, and you struggle to regain control. Wyll watches you approach with open trust, his eyes full of that infuriating, radiant kindness.

You glance at Astarion, your eyes wide with desperation, mouth opening to beg, to plead with every ounce of strength you have left, but the words that spill out aren’t yours.

“Thank you, Wyll,” you hear yourself lilt, sweet, and sincere, even though it should be shaking with fear.

You hate how calm you sound and how Astarion’s compulsion makes you sound grateful for the monstrous thing you’re about to do. You want to scream and beg Wyll to run, but the compulsion forces you to press your lips to his neck.

You try. Gods, you try. Your mind thrashes against the invisible chains binding you, but Astarion’s compulsion is absolute. The more you resist, the more the pain sears through you—white-hot, blistering agony that tears at every nerve.

Astarion’s presence looms a cold, unyielding shadow. He’s everywhere—in your thoughts, in the twisting agony, in the way your hand rises to steady Wyll’s shoulder without your consent. Tears sting your eyes, but they’re useless; they can’t stop what’s coming. The compulsion tightens like a noose, cutting off any hope of escape.

There will be no coming back from this.

Big thank you for everyone who takes the time to read/reblog/comment, and all the other magnificent things.

Master List of Chapters: Fangs and Fractured Hearts

If you're interested I write another fic with Spawn Astarion x Tav called - Shadows of the Past

Small Notes:

Well, fuck. How in the Hells is she going to get out of this?

#astarion fanfic #astarion x reader #bg3 #ascended astarion #bg3 fanfiction #astarion x you #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion #astarion smut #fangs and fractured hearts #pallidmoon #astarion ascended

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marwyn · 11 days ago

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nedcat? and roosecat? and totally out of the left field lol but danyjhogo…which appeared out of nowhere and has become indie popular of late. personally w this last one i feel it’s fans trying to overcorrect grrm’s orientalism by imagining a romance (and personality) for jhogo (not even against this tbh) + the easy trope of queen/sworn knight buuuut im curious to hear what you think

Nedcat: Quite sweet, it’s nice for them (and particularly Cat) that they were among the rare few able to make a loving and (mostly) functional partnership out of their arranged marriage. Unpopular opinions…Ned is probably at his most patriarchal when it comes to how he handled the Jon situation with her, but it’s admittedly a diabolically difficult situation. Obviously he didn’t tell her the truth at the beginning because they barely knew each other, but once they did I doubt she would have been pleased to know that he was endangering their own children by sheltering someone the king would want dead if his identity were known, and thus she may have treated Jon just as poorly or worse. Ned may have also kept the truth from her because it was an infohazard; if she knew and did nothing then she would have been definitively guilty of treason as well. And yet, even without telling her he was still making the decision to expose her and their family to a fair amount of risk without her input. Lots of situations like this in these books!

Roosecat: Actually kind of intriguing to me and I think it was this artwork that did it…realistically it would probably be a nightmare given how he treats women, although it’s possible that a noblewoman would be a different case than Ramsay’s mother, and you could romanticize the hell out of it or just lean into the horror of the Bluebeard vampire house

Dany/Jhogo: I think you’re correct on all counts and I believe this passage is part of the reasoning for it too

The Dothraki offered a hand down. When she took it, he pulled her up onto his horse and sat her in front of him, where she could see over the heads of the crowd. The firemage had conjured a ladder in the air, a crackling orange ladder of swirling flame that rose unsupported from the floor of the bazaar, reaching toward the high latticed roof.

Most of the spectators, she noticed, were not of the city: she saw sailors off trading ships, merchants come by caravan, dusty men out of the red waste, wandering soldiers, craftsmen, slavers. Jhogo slid one hand about her waist and leaned close. “The Milk Men shun him. Khaleesi, do you see the girl in the felt hat? There, behind the fat priest. She is a—”

“—cutpurse,” finished Dany. She was no pampered lady, blind to such things. She had seen cutpurses aplenty in the streets of the Free Cities, during the years she’s spent with her brother, running from the Usurper’s hired knives.

(ACOK, Daenerys III)

Definitely a cute idea, it’s really a shame that GRRM didn’t spend more energy on Dany’s bloodriders and handmaids. I always think of them as analogous to Jon’s friends/eventual subordinates at the Wall and it’s a really disappointing comparison since the latter all have unique personality quirks no matter how little limelight they get (and Sam is a fully-fledged character in his own right). It’s all the more striking when you compare fairly obvious counterparts like Irri and Satin, since the latter has received so much more narrative attention despite his later introduction and fairly minimal presence. Missandei is something of a counterpart to Sam, and she has been granted stronger characterization than the rest of Dany’s attendants, but she’s in much fewer books than he is, not to mention that she’s quite a bit younger than Dany so it’s not the same despite her precociousness (making them the same age may have been one of the few good changes the show made? Hate to give it credit for that though in light of the ending it came up with for Missandei)

#ask

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crimsonlyinglilly · 2 months ago

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DAY 12: ALT 4: body swap, DAY 13: “i don’t trust anyone else”

More for @febuwhump, 3 days left to catch up, will i manage it?

Nobody noticed, nobody cared? - Davina makes a discovery about Elijah and Aurora makes a deal

(Gender's off because Davina doesn't know whose in Elijah's body)

---

It's a just over a month after the Mikaelsons ruined her plan to bring Kol back when Elijah visits.

“How did you get past the wards?” She asked coldly, she wasn't scared, more angry she'd have to readjust them.

Elijah smiled from the doorway as she glares.

“I received a gift,” he explained pulling a pendant from his collar, the design seemed off for Elijah’s normal style, too delicate and bright, several coloured gems set around the stone that likely held the enchantment, gold holding it all together, “allows me to bypass certain wards although if you wished to avoid me you should have set up somewhere that requires invitation.” he finished take a single step forward.

“You'd have found a way in” she shrugged, “and I'm not endangering anyone else in your family.” she snapped, catching the flicker of pain across his expression, she had heard of Marcel’s and Josh's friend, Gia killed by Klaus, didn't mean she forgave him, in fact it made her hate him more for interfering with her spell more. How could he have returned to Klaus after he had done that?

Just like Tim.

Or Hayley cursed with all the crescents.

“That's what I'm here about.”

“You want me to find a way to undo the curse?” She asked flatly, while she had started looking for a way, it wouldn't be for him, it was so that the baby had someone else besides Klaus to raise her but it was low on her list of priorities.

“No, you're working to find a way to bring back Kol-” he started.

“Rebekah already offered to help to make up for taking my last chance, you're too late.” She cut him off.

“I don't care to make up for anything,” he shrugged stepping closer to her, coming to rest his hands on the table, the last thing between them, a warning went up her spine as she realised something was wrong here as Elijah smiled at her, “you want Kol back, I want Gia, I'll help you and you bring her back.”

“You don't-” her voice trailed off and Kol's words as he was dying came back to her, a whispered warming she had ignored, believing it jumbled by the hex.

That's not- ‘Lijah.

Elijah wouldn't have been so callous, not when he was still trying to get something, and the Elijah Kol had told her about would have cared, the Elijah she first met in the attic would have, the one who refused to feed from her, to even look at her neck.

This one- whoever it was had been glancing at it throughout their words.

“You're not Elijah.” she said slowly

The vampire across from her froze making Davina suddenly aware he had been swaying slightly.

A wide grin split across Elijah's face and Davina was stuck by how natural it seemed to fit him.

“Clever girl, how did you guess?” He asked, taking a step back from the table and Davina was surprised at the sudden shift of posture.

“Kol, he warned me as-” she answered, the pain of the night making her voice die away

“He was dying,” they finished, cocking their head to the side, Elijah’s hair fell in front of his eyes as he did, reminding Davina that the change in hairstyle had only happened after Kol's death. The real Elijah had been gone for months, and she was only noticing now, those thoughts were cut off as they continued “that's nice.”

“Nice!” She snapped slamming her palm onto the table.

“For Elijah,” they offered their hands as a show of no offense meant, “at least one of his siblings noticed. I'll have to point it out to Klaus when this game is up.”

“Klaus doesn't know?” she asked, keeping her eyes glued to the unknown, it was bazaar to see Elijah so animated.

“Nope,” they popped the ‘p and twisted to lift himself to sit on the table, almost bend over backwards to keep looking at her, “nor does Rebekah, although her leaving certainly make it easier.” they sat back up suddenly, “it's almost depressing how little they've noticed. I know I've messed up and yet they're both so eager to turn the attention back to themselves and keep the lie of the perfect older brother.” he complained before breaking into chuckles.

Davina would almost call it giggling if it wasn’t coming from Elijah.

“What’s so funny?”

“The saying’s true,” she was told after the laughing died down “you really have to walk in the others shoes, I never thought I'd pity Elijah Mikaelson but I do, after everything he's done for them and no one noticed a thing.”

“Kol did.” She snapped in his defense, even as he was in pain and dying Kol noticed Elijah wasn’t himself so how hadn’t the others?

“As did Gia,” not Elijah replied, his expression softening with grief that Davina was familiar with as they took a moment before continuing, “and the-Hayley would have if she wasn't newly wedded, fearing for her child and now locked in the body of a beast most of the time. It's almost like Nik's making it easier for me.” they finished under his breath.

“Gia knew?” she asked, making a note of the person calling Klaus ‘Nik’ they had to be close to him at one point.

“Of course,” they said sharply, hopping off the table to turn to face her, “I didn't want her to be with me thinking it was Elijah.”

“So you told her.” Davina prompted, adding the clear disgust the thought of being mistaken as Elijah and clearly were an enemy of Elijah and Gia mattered to them besides whatever plan they had.

“No, she worked out something was different and I explained, she refused to go ahead with anything until she was sure Elijah was ok with it.” they sighed, smiling bittersweetly, apparently caught in a memory, “She was just too good.”

“You asked Elijah?” she asked, interrupting their thoughts “You've been in contact?”

“At first it was so Elijah would help me pass as him but turns out I didn't really need him did I? but I kept it up keeping him up to date with Hope’s growth, ect.”

“And he agreed to help you?” she said incredulously, Elijah Mikaelson letting an enemy get close to his family, helping them stay undetected, didn’t make sense.

“Well this prolonged game wasn't my original plan,” they shrugged carelessly, every move contrasting her memory of Elijah making her wonder how this person had managed to act as him for so long. “I woke up in a car with defenceless Cami and baby Hope, I was planning on killing them both and leaving Elijah and Klaus to deal with the aftermath.”

“But you didn't.” Davina said, smoothing the flare of panic at how close Cami had been to death, one she wasn’t even aware of.

“I wanted to gloat, so I rang him and he offered me a better idea.” they explained and Davina tensed as their smile sharpened, as their tone turned to gloating, “He begged me to help them, protect them and I couldn’t resist getting him to take part in his own suffering was a new level of fun. He destroyed our lives and now he'd help destroy his own.

“Destroy his own.” She echoed, brush away the brief flicker of fear she had felt, she was the regent of the Quarter witches, bridge between the ancestors, she could handle Elijah and Klaus, she would have no problem with this stranger in his body.

“Originally I was going to create a rift between them that he could never fix but I realised this was far more fun,” the vampire almost did a small jump for joy as she spoke, “Elijah's never going to forget how his siblings didn't notice he was replaced and when they realise it themselves both the guilt and Nik's paranoia will get in the way of them ever fixing it.”

“How come he hasn't arrived since you swapped?” she asked the question that had been bugging her. Elijah put his family first, even if he was helping the one who stole his body why hadn’t he arrived to add the extra hand.

“He's been a little distracted.” They laughed.

“What?”

“Turns out when you swap bodies, you don't take everything with you so while I've had to deal with Elijah's depression and unrequited love for the wolves,” they made a mocking expression of disgust and Davina couldn’t help but notice the plural but she put that to the side to deal with later “he's been dealing with my, last we tested, bipolar.”

They must have noticed Davina's eye widening because they added, after a moment.

“Don't fear, my brother has been caring for him, they go way back, really I think it's helped them clean the air between them, not that Elijah had much of a choice.” they explained before fondly adding “Tristan’s always been persistent.”

“How far back?” she asked, adding “You've known them for a while.” when they raised an eyebrow instead of answering.

“I was Rebekah's first sired, one of the first vampires after the Originals, my brother was Elijah’s.” they said before adding in a softer voice “We could have been happy, all of us together.”

For a moment there was quiet.

“And he ruined your lives?” She added taking a step closer to the table to continue the conversation as her mind stalled on the idea of a first sired, a reminder that the Mikaelsons really were the first of their kind. How did they discover something like that?

“He made me break Niklaus’ heart as well as my own and turned us into bait to distract his father for a century.” they snarled curling their hands into fists that Davina wouldn’t be surprised his nails weren’t cutting into flesh. “by the time we were back to ourselves everything we knew was gone.”

“And you hate him for that after all this time?” she asked, if they were telling the truth then that meant they had held the grudge for maybe nine centuries.

“Do you know what it's like to be compelled?” They asked learning across the table, “to be helpless to your own body, I was the first person it was used on, Elijah didn't even realise he was doing it.”

Davina struggled to picture Elijah as a new vampire unaware of his powers, ever after seeing him as this energetic person, Elijah just seemed all too aware of himself for her to picture it.

“So all this was revenge, just to hurt him.”

“It was but that powerlessness didn't end for Gia, she felt helpless and then nothing but pain as she burnt, why? Because Klaus wanted to punish his brother.” They snarled, and Davina didn't flinch as Elijah's face shifted into the beast he was but she understood their rage, “She had done nothing to him, she had only wanted to help. She was mine and he took her, now I just want her back”

“And you still interfered with my spell,” she countered, because it wasn't Elijah that interfered with her spell, it was this person, they were the reason she didn't have Kol with her now teaching her magic, all of Klaus Mikaelson’s orders “still followed his plans.”

“You think I wanted to follow his plan after what he did to Gia!” they shouted pushing themselves away from the table to force themselves to take a breath “That Rebekah wanted anything to do after he compelled Marcel against her, but he made sure we had no other choice. It was him or let Dahlia win and I put Hope first because she's a baby and deserves that.”

“You could have told me, me and Kol together-” she replied.

“Please” he snorted, “had you managed it, brought Kol back, you think you could have had happily ever after?” they asked, “Ever wonder why the Mikaelsons are alone despite a thousand years to meet someone. Gia was just the latest in a long long line of deaths because Nic fears being abandoned and the only reason Marcel lives is because he's as much Nic’s as his siblings.” they laughed ”Finn's lover only survived as long as she did because she was smart enough to stay out of reach.”

Davina blinked.

“Finn’s lover?” the words came out without any meaning to Finn, the one that hexed Kol, killed his little brother, slowly. She hadn’t thought that he’d have anyone, that he was like the others who had to deal with Klaus, he was a Mikaelsons as bad as Klaus but Kol had mentioned Klaus' controlling ruining his own freedom, Rebekah had told her of her own stories and she had only met Elijah because his brother had stabbed him and given him away, why wouldn't Finn have the same issues?

“Sage,” they answered with an oddly solemn air considering the active way they had up until this point. “A deadly fighter, kept to herself, utterly devoted to Finn and it was returned, she was the only one he cared for, pretty much the only person he saw. She waited nine centuries for his siblings to let him out of the box and from what I heard died the night she was finally reunited with him, maybe an hour after he was killed.”

“The sireline.”

“Yep,” they popped the ‘p’ again, and added “we have witches working on that.” as they pulled out the necklace.

“Why come to me?” she asked “What about those witches, who made that?” she gestured to the necklace.

“I don’t trust anyone else.” They answered looking straight at her, “these witches will help but they're in my brother’s control, I love him but he’s devious, controlling and would use Gia, even while claiming it’s for my own good, I won't put Gia through anymore.”

Davina stared looking for a lie, any sign of deception, but found nothing as not Elijah stared back looking more open than she had ever imagined Elijah could be.

“You want Kol back, I want Gia, you have the power, I have connections, we work together and we both get what we want.”

“That simple?” she said flatly as she thought, a help to get Kol back, Marcel's friend, another of Klaus' victims and contact with others trying to break the sireline and free Marcel and Josh from Klaus, she was failing to find enough reasons to turn it down

“Elijah and my brother are the ones with layered deals and word games, I want my girlfriend back and you want your boyfriend, Deal?” they held a hand out to her.

Making a deal with a vampire she didn’t know and was as old as the Mikaelsons was something she knew Marcel would hate but this person understood and shared her reason to hate the Mikaelsons, when she knew Marcel was still torn with old undeserved loyalty.

“Before I agree I should know your name.” Davina said before she took the hand.

“Aurora.” She introduced. “Aurora De Martel.”

#febuwhump #febuwhump2025 #febuwhumpday12 #Alt 4 #febuwhumpday13 #fanfiction #elijah mikaelson #davina claire #aurora de martel #the originals #fic #the originals au #tvd fanfiction #AU -Nobody noticed #body swap

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sunlessea · 10 months ago

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“ you need to learn patience. be good and i’ll give you what you want later. ” - plot twist! nestsegg / nestsely :clown:

all i had for this ship was s.mut so uh 🤡 / @londonfallen

cassius helsing, now ashburnum, does not belong in the company of vampires. least of all their elders, the masters of the bazaar who had spread their curse among humanity with lacking remorse. he's their inevitable end, or at least that's what his family says. raised nearly from birth for the sole purpose of hunting and killing them, one by one : he's hardly a revolutionary, but the way the masters of the bazaar are prophesied to fall by his hands, one would think the name cassius to be a war cry for london's rebels.

he tries not to think about how disappointed anyone would be, if they knew. his own heart pounds 'gainst his chest in equal parts guilt, humiliation and excitement that he can't quite bury, even 'neath anger at this point half feigned. here he lies, the master's greatest enemy — and it's mr nests with his wrists pinned down, claws pressing as deep into his skin as its other hand is deep 'neath his slacks. they're tangled in a mess, the two of them, his own clothes ripped and ravaged to expose him, one leg half wrapped 'round its waist where he'd attempted to kick it and had ended up with one of its legs 'tween his thighs instead.

" — get off of me," his voice is torn between harsh growl and pathetic whine, his ears flat 'gainst his head in the same breath his tail is fluffed up a few sizes. no matter how hard he writhes against its hold, it just ends up with his blood on its nails, and every time his body moves, it purrs louder. he knows it's making fun of him, because they both know he truly could fight back harder if he wanted to ... but he doesn't! and that's largely the issue here, what makes his heart ache every bit the same as his body when its palm wraps 'round his erection and makes him whimper.

he's incredibly sensitive. touch starved at his best, completely untouched generally. the feeling is so intense he ends up kneeing it in its side with his leg, and all he can do is glare up at it at the same time he's blushing mad!

"this — this is morally reprehensible, get off of me! i don't — i don't want anything from—" its thumb presses against the head of his cock and he winces, voice choking up 'fore he can continue to protest too much. they would kill him. the garou would kill him if—this is illegal, this is against their— "a—ah—" all it takes is a little more pressure in the movement of its hand along his length for him to wilt proper, breath stalled and lip caught 'tween his fang. why! this is pathetic! "this is wrong—"

#londonfallen #i feel like garbo so trash writing </4 #alas #` ✞ elysium. ⁞ and if i only could‚ i’d make a deal with the gods.#ship tbt.#` ✞ scandal. ⁞ right in front of my glory?#suggestive ―

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wonderfull-star · 10 months ago

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My favorite fandoms that made me hyperfixation🤫

1.Gravity Falls

2.Star vs the forces of evil(svtfoe)

3.Fnaf(in this fandom right now 🤩, found out about fnaf in 2014)

4.Miraculous Ladybug(in fandom, patiently waiting for season 6)

5.Wander Over Yonder(kinda in fandom)

6.Undertale(in fandom like crazy)

7.Deltarune(in fandom)

8.OK KO. Let’s be heroes(kinda in fandom)

9.Wakfu(So much nostalgia!!! Started watching in 2014)

10.Dofus kerub bazaar(I loved opening so much 🥺)

11.Angel’s Friends(need to rewatch, so much memories..)

12.Winx(literally my first hyperfixation, started watching then I was 6-7 in 2009-10)

13.My little pony(classic,was one of my favourite cartoons)

14.Sonic X and other(started watching in 2016, my eyes was in tears at the end of season 3, thanks)

15.School for little vampires(currently in fandom right now, I love this fandom as much as fnaf and undertale)

16.Harry Potter(started reading and then watching in 2015, I remember that I started reading when fnaf 4 is only came out and now it gives me weird vibes).

17.School for good and evil(need to reread this masterpiece 😭)

18.Cookie run(in fandom)

I made this post to introduce people to other fandoms and just to feel nostalgic. I'm sure I haven't named all the fandoms yet..

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camisoledadparis · 4 months ago

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THIS DAY IN GAY HISTORY

based on: The White Crane Institute's 'Gay Wisdom', Gay Birthdays, Gay For Today, Famous GLBT, glbt-Gay Encylopedia, Today in Gay History, Wikipedia, and more … December 12

1821 – Gustave Flaubert was born on this date (d.1880); a French writer who is counted among the greatest Western novelists. He is known especially for his first published novel, Madame Bovary (1857), and for his scrupulous devotion to his art and style, best exemplified by his endless search for "le mot juste" ("the precise word"). And in this instance, the perfect word is gay.

For those who would leap to conclusions, the great French novelist made three mistakes: like Clifton Webb, he lived with his mama; he never married; and he once identified himself with the title character of his masterpiece, Madame Bovary — “Madame Bovary, c’est mois.” What he meant by calling himself Emma Bovary, of course, was that, like his famous character, he hated bourgeois convention.

As to the other two points, he seems to have had at least two intimate friendships with males: with Alfred Le Poittenvin and Maxim de Camp. He also engaged in intercourse with male prostitutes in Beirut and Egypt; in one of his letters, he describes a "pockmarked young rascal wearing a white turban".

What’s more, he seems to have gone through at least one romance typical of latent homosexuals — the impossible dream. His friendship with the poet Louise Colet was founded on the idea that it would be impossible to win her.

The 1870s were a difficult time for Flaubert. Prussian soldiers occupied his house during the War of 1870, and his mother died in 1872. After her death, he fell into financial difficulty due to business failures on the part of his niece's husband. Flaubert suffered from venereal diseases most of his life. His health declined and he died at Croisset of a cerebral hemorrhage in 1880 at the age of 58. He was buried in the family vault in the cemetery of Rouen.

Historian A.L. Rowse is convinced that Flaubert was homosexual; so are others. But there is, alas, little hard evidence.

1904 – Baron Nicolas de Gunzburg (d.1981) was a banker and socialite of Russian, Polish, and Portuguese descent, who became an editor at several American publications, including Town & Country, Vogue, and Harper's Bazaar. He was named to the International Best Dressed List Hall of Fame in 1971.

Baron Nicolas "Niki" de Gunzburg was born in Paris, France, a scion of a wealthy and influential Russian-Jewish family, whose fortune had been made in banking and oil.

Raised primarily in England, where his father worked for the bankers Hirsch & Co. and served as a director of the Ritz Hotels Development Corporation, Gunzburg spent his later youth in France. Living the life of a bon vivant in the Paris of the 1920s and 1930s, Gunzburg spent money lavishly, and his costume balls featured extravagant sets designed by architects and artists.

Carl Theodor Dreyer, the Danish film director, met Gunzburg in Paris. This led to their co-production of the expressionistic horror film Vampyr (1932). Loosely based on the vampire stories by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu collected together as In a Glass Darkly, the protagonist, Allan Gray, was played by Gunzburg under the screen name Julian West.

Legend states that upon the death of his father, Gunzburg learned the remaining family fortune was non-existent. Left with only the money he had in a checking account, he purchased his passage to America and used what was left to throw a costume ball in July 1934.

Gunzburg arrived in New York City on 10 November 1936 and rented an apartment in the Ritz Tower.After working as an editor at Harper's Bazaar and as editor in chief of Town & Country, Guzburg was appointed senior fashion editor of Condé Nast's publication Vogue in 1949. Chauvinistically, he admitted that office life had its drawbacks. "I want to be in fashion, so I have to work with women, and that's that," he told The New York Times in 1969. "But what it all comes down to is the weekly paycheck, isn't it?"

Gunzburg also was a mentor to three up-and-coming fashion designers who would go on to dominate the industry: Bill Blass, Oscar de la Renta, and Calvin Klein. The last-named, whom Gunzburg met in the mid 1960s, was perhaps the baron's most famous protégé, and Klein discussed Gunzburg with Bianca Jagger and Andy Warhol in Interview magazine, published not long after the baron's death.

Gunzburg, who was homosexual and never married, had two known long-term companions: Erik Rhodes, an actor; and Paul Sherman, an artist.

1924 – Ed Koch, former Mayor of New York City, was born on this date. (d.2013)

Koch is a lifelong bachelor, and his sexuality became an issue in the 1977 mayoral election with the appearance of placards and posters (disavowed by the Cuomo campaign) with the slogan "Vote for Cuomo, not the homo." Koch denounced the attack, later saying "No, I am not a homosexual. If I were a homosexual, I would hope I would have the courage to say so. What's cruel is that you are forcing me to say I am not a homosexual. This means you are putting homosexuals down. I don't want to do that." He was able to use this to his advantage by painting Cuomo as a homophobic bigot. After becoming mayor, Koch began attending public events with former Miss America, well-known television game show panelist and consumer advocate Bess Myerson. The strategy made Myerson, who had political ambitions of her own (she later ran for senator), seem like a "First Lady of New York" of sorts.

Koch has generally been less explicit in his denials in later life, and refused comment on his actual sexual experiences, writing

"What do I care? I'm 73 years old. I find it fascinating that people are interested in my sex life at age 73. It's rather complimentary! But as I say in my book, my answer to questions on this subject is simply 'Fuck off.' There have to be some private matters left."

Randy Shilts, in And The Band Played On, his influential history of the early AIDS epidemic in America, discusses the possibility that Koch ignored the developing epidemic in New York City in 1982-1983 because he was afraid of lending credence to rumors of his homosexuality. Author and Activist Larry Kramer has been more pointed in his criticism of Koch. He describes the former mayor as a "closeted Gay man" whose fear of being 'outed' kept him from aggressively addressing the AIDS epidemic in New York City in the early 1980s. In the 2006 movie Shortbus, an openly Gay character resembling Koch (played by Alan Mandell) claims to be an ex-Mayor of New York City, and makes reference to his negligence concerning the AIDS crisis of the 1980s. He was "outed" more directly in Kirby Dick's 2009 documentary about politics and the closet, Outrage, when Village Voice investigative journalist Wayne Barrett states that Koch is gay.

A self-portrait

1938 – Emmanuel Cooper (d.2012) was a British studio potter, writer on arts and crafts, and gay activist.

Born in Derbyshire, Cooper studied at the University for the Creative Arts. He also achieved a PhD degree at Middlesex University. He was a member of the Crafts Council and the editor of Ceramic Review. Since 1999, he was visiting Professor of Ceramics and Glass at the Royal College of Art. He was the author of many books on ceramics, including his definitive biography of Bernard Leach that was published in 2003 , and was also the editor of The Ceramics Book, published in 2006.

In the early 1970s, he was also a cofounder of the Gay Left collective which published an influential journal of sexual politics. After it dissolved he set up a gay artists group and a gay history group, and contributed widely to the gay press, increasingly on the arts and cultural issues. He remained a prominent LGBT rights campaigner throughout his life. He also published several studies of LGBT art, including The Sexual Perspective and Fully Exposed: The Male Nude in Photography.

His 30-year partnership with the television producer David Horbury was the core of his emotional stability. They celebrated their civil partnership in 2006. David survives him.

1945 – Massimo Consoli (d.2007) was known as "the father of the Italian gay movement". Besides being an activist, he was also an anarchist and an historian. In 1998, the State Archive of Italy's Ministry of Culture acquired his extensive archive of Italian gay activist history.

In Italy in the 1960s, Massimo Consoli was so eager for gay activism he subscribed to ONE and The Mattachine Review, despite having only a scant grasp of English. His own pioneering work for gay equality caught the attention of the SID —teh Italian equivalent of the CIA—which interrogated his neighbors, cost him his teaching job, and impelled him to move to the Netherlands. From that safe refuge, he published his Manifesto Gay in 1971 and as a result gay activists immediately formed FUORI! (OUT!) with branches in Rome, Milan, and Turin.

In the early 1980s he lived in New York and became good friends with Vito Russo, but after witnessing the emerging aids crisis he returned to Italy to educate people about safe sex.

Consoli attended the Gay May Day events of 1972 and arranged Italy's first commemoration of Stonewall on June 28, 1976, just one of the hundreds of political events he organized, ranging from demonstrations to conferences to book lectures.

He was the first person to discuss anti-gay violence with the Italian police, who then established a liaison to the gay community; and in 1992 he initiated the demonstration at the Vatican against Cardinal Ratzinger's antigay writings which discuss homosexuality in terms of "an intrinsic moral evil."

Consoli started the magazine Gay News Rome and wrote forty books, two standouts of which are Homocaust, about the Nazi's persecution of gay men, and an autobiographical novel Andata and Ritorno (Round Trip).

He led pilgrimages to the tomb, outside Rome, of Karl Ulrichs, annually on his birthday August 28, and last year he helped get a statue of Ulrichs placed at the grave. Consoli himself died in November 2007, of stomach cancer. His papers dating before 1998 are in the Italian national archives and those after '98 are in a gay archive.

1949 – Today is the birthday of poet and writer Richard McCann.

McCann is best known as the author of the gorgeous Mother of Sorrows, a collection of linked stories that novelist Michael Cunningham has described as unbearably beautiful. It won the 2005 John C. Zacharis First Book Award from Ploughshares and was also an American Library Association Stonewall Book Award recipient, as well as a finalist for the Lambda Literary Award.White Crane reviewed the book, commenting that "McCann evokes a moment with such gorgeous precision that many times I forgot I was reading a book — as if I was dreaming a reality and gasped into the night, waking myself from sleep and having to remind myself it was only a story. What one is left with is a refreshing meditation on the gritty complications of our relationships as gay men. This book has stunning power and an ability to leave the reader breathless at its beauty."

McCann's book of poems, Ghost Letters, won the 1994 Beatrice Hawley and Capricorn Poetry awards. With Michael Klein, he edited Things Shaped in Passing: More 'Poets for Life' Writing from the AIDS Pandemic.

1962 – Jon Vincent (a.k.a. Dave Phillips, John St. Vincent), real name: Jeffrey James Vickers (d.2000) was an American pornographic actor who appeared in gay and bisexual pornography. Though he performed in fewer than 40 films, he is considered a porn legend.

Vincent was known for his muscular body and hyper-masculine demeanor. He was also known for talking dirty and for saying harsh and degrading things to the men with whom he had sex in his films. "He was frequently rough with his co-stars, and was even known to put his fist through a wall during an argument with a director." He identified as bisexual and appeared also in several bisexual porn films.

He co-authored his autobiography Thousand and One Night Stands. He was raised in Louisiana. He wanted to be a professional baseball player, and signed with the Kansas City Royals when he was only 20, but either he was fired when involved in a conspiracy to sell cocaine or an injury ended that pursuit.

At one point, he dated another late gay porn star Joey Stefano. Though he only mentions having sex with whites and Latinos in his autobiography, in the autobiography of British gay porn star Blue Blake, Blake stated that Vincent had a preference for African-American men in real life

"Vincent was a thrill junkie: a compulsive seeker of sexual adventure, physical danger, steroids, alcohol, cocaine and finally heroin. Heroin was stronger than he was; it took over his life and finally killed him." He had been a severe drug addict for decades. He died of a heroin overdose in New York City.

1968 – Today's the birthday of the Russian poet, critic and publisher Dmitry Kuzmin.

Kuzmin started his literary career in 1988 by organizing a group of poets who now are known as the "Vavilon" circle of poets/writers (which means "Babylon"). He and his friends started publishing an independent book series called "The Library of Young Literature". In 1993 he founded the ARGO-RISK Press, an independent poetry press. In 1996 he published the first issue of the Gay almanac called RISK. In 1997 he created the reference site Vavilon.ru where he listed a number of Russian writers. Kuzmin declared that the main purpose of the site was to resist the huge wave of "commercial literature", which began flooding the Russian market for the first time since the 1920's. In 2007, he founded LitKarta, another reference site that provides information on some members of the Russian literary community.

Kuzmin organised quite a number of poetry readings and festivals, "non- commercial", as he referred to them. He claims that he has published about 300 books by other writers (mostly leaflets). He won a few awards for promotion of the works by young writers (including the Andrei Bely Prize). He edits the literary magazine called Vozdukh, and is a contributing editor of the literary journal titled St. Petersburg Review. Kuzmin actively promotes Gay culture and fights homophobia.

1991 – Derrick Gordon is an American college basketball player. A shooting guard, Gordon attends the University of Massachusetts and plays for the UMass Minutemen basketball team. Gordon used to attend Western Kentucky University, where he played for the Western Kentucky Hilltoppers. In 2014, he became the first men's basketball player in the National Collegiate Athletic Association's Division I to come out as gay and play in a game.

Gordon is from Plainfield, New Jersey. He has two brothers, including a twin. Gordon began to think he might be gay while attending middle school.

In April 2014, Gordon came out to his family and teammates. He subsequently chose to come out publicly, becoming the first openly gay men's basketball player in Division I. Gordon said "I just didn't want to hide anymore, in any way ... I've been waiting and watching for the last few months, wondering when a Division I player would come out, and finally I just said, 'Why not me?'". He further said that Jason Collins' becoming the first openly gay player in the National Basketball Association inspired him to come out.

Gordon's family was mixed in their responses to his coming out. He received praise from Collins and Michael Sam, who became the first openly gay player in the National Football League. Students organized a rally in support of Gordon which drew over 1,500 supporters. Five members of the Westboro Baptist Church were on hand to protest against Gordon. Later that year, he became the first openly gay player in Division I to play in a men's basketball game.

In 2014, he revealed that he was in a relationship with actor Gerald McCullouch.

1992 – Félix Maritaud is a French actor, notable for his roles in French queer cinema.

Maritaud began to garner recognition after starring in a string of French independent films, most notably BPM (Beats per Minute). The French LGBT magazine Têtu dubbed him “the new hero of French queer cinema”.

In 2018, Maritaud attracted further attention for his role in the independent film Sauvage, in which he played a homeless sex worker. Peter Bradshaw of The Guardian wrote that "Maritaud’s performance has power." Tara Brady of The Irish Times wrote, "Félix Maritaud is a heartbreaking revelation as a sex worker seeking intimacy in France". Dazed called his performance a "raw, delicate depiction". He won the Lumières Award for Most Promising Actor at the 24th Lumières Awards, for his performance in Sauvage.

In 2019, Maritaud was featured in Gaspar Noé's Lux Æterna. It was screened out of competition at the 2019 Cannes Film Festival.

In 2020, Maritaud starred in a French short film titled Dustin, which was an official selection of the 2020 Cannes Film Festival, but was not able to be screened due to the cancellation of the festival in light of the COVID-19 pandemic in France. It was subsequently screened at the 2020 Toronto International Film Festival, where it was named the winner of the IMDbPro Short Cuts Award for Best International Short Film.

Maritaud is openly gay.

1995 – A "Roseanne" episode portrays a same-sex wedding when character Leon marries his boyfriend Scott. ABC moves the episode from its 8:00 time slot to 9:30 because of the adult humor.

1997 – The Kentucky state Court of Appeals ruled that gay men and lesbians are entitled to protection under the state's domestic violence laws.

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